Runner's High
by snuggled
Summary: Pairing: MattMello  Warning: foul language, perversity, and eventually yaoi  Summary: A look at the relationship of the two. Told mostly in Matt's perspective. A bit Matt centric.
1. Fearless

_Harr harr._

_It's me again._

_I'm really happy people are loving _The Locked Door, _but this was written well before it, and I need to get these down real fast. I'm an anxious person. I really am. I'm so delusional, I believe that I'm going to die at the age of 21. (Ha ha! See? It's a stupid delusional thought!) So I'm probably going to be acting fairly odd for quite a while. _

_To be honest, I've been slacking in taking my medications. (Shhh. Don't tell anyone.)_

_That probably scared away some of the less-edgy people._

_Alrighty. This story is centered around Matt and Mello, although it has the feeling of being more Matt-centered. It consists of one-shots and chapters. However, the one-shots are only one-shots because they have more depth to them the way they are._

_So technically they're really chapters. Even though they work just as well for one-shots._

_The reason why this story will be mature, is because it deals with Matt and Mello. (Ha ha!) Mello is __**not a nice person**__. He swears, he kills, he blows himself up. And both of them are druggies. (Caffeine and nicotine are just as much drugs as cocaine and morphine.) Actually, that's not entirely the reason._

_(I'm both immensely proud of myself and ashamed. Heh heh.)_

_The main reason is I'm hoping to turn this into something sexual. Because they are men. _

_I'm actually so un-sexual it's to the point where my friends are telling me to join a convent. Which is why I'm feeling proud at deciding to make this thing sexy._

_But don't really expect it until around chapter ten or so. I still have to get through these one-shots/chapters._

_- Cake-chan (This story actually is told mostly in Matt's perspective.)  
_

* * *

"Matt." 

I heard the voice- still honeysweet and alluring… Same as it ever was. Although this time the voice was raspy. The person on the other line coughed violently.

I took another drag from my cigarette, but said nothing.

"I want to know if you're willing to help me."

As always, I was being dragged into something._ Bloody fucking cock shit damn ass bitch. I swear- __**swear**__- he's the Devil incarnate. With that honey-dripped voice taunting, tempting, coaxing me to follow him into hell. _If I gave a shit, I'd have taken mummy's advice and stayed out of trouble.

But mummy wasn't here and I could have cared less.

"Sure thing. I mean, come on! We're best friends, Mel."

Another drag. _Ah, sweet cancer._

"And I swear to God, Matt…" His voice broke a bit, but whether it was from an emotional overload or from something he had stuck in his throat, I couldn't tell. "Swear to God, if you get killed, I will end this stupid vendetta against Near…"

_Heh. At least the bastard admits it's stupid._

I chuckled. "Okay."

His voice became filled with rage. Desperate. "Are you fucking listening!?" _Touchy, much?_

Another drag.

"**Yeah**. I fucking hear you, dickhead." _And we start the swearing game._

"This isn't some fucking game you can just restart!"

I grinned and took another drag. _Every expression of his is priceless. I want to engrave even that tone in his voice into my memory and keep it locked away. Keep anyone else from seeing or hearing any of these sides of him._

"I know. That just makes it all the more fun."

On the other line, I heard my German comrade kick a trashcan and start swearing. _Where the hell is he, anyway? A bloody alley?_

"Matt! If you're not going to be serious about this, I'll-"

"**Mello.**"

That was enough of this. I'd had my fun. Besides, he was starting to sound more like he was pleading. Pleading was new. Anything new for Mello was bad. It usually meant he was too worn out to act all macho.

I heard him groaning over the phone. His voice was both pained and sad. The man was probably fighting the urge to break the phone and hissing through clenched teeth. After a while, he sighed.

I could feel the tension on the other line and it was deathly silent. It was actually quite disturbing, to say the least.

I heard the rattling of rosary beads on gloved hands; the mumbling whispers of a prayer.

My cigarette dropped out of my mouth as I realized that Mello- strong, bold, fearless Mello- was afraid. Had I been drunk at before, this realization sure as hell would have sobered me up. I waited until I could hear a soft, childlike whine and I knew Mello was fighting back tears.

"Please… please forgive me, Matt."

"Shit, Mello. You know I'd die for you."


	2. Burning Flesh

_I had to keep myself from typing anything else to the Fearless chapter. I know it still has more meaning to it if I end it with him saying that last line, but I had to put the sound of Mello hitting the ground in there._

_(Big grin here.) So I decided to work it into this chapter. Oh! By the way, how did you like it being in first person? It originally wasn't in first person, but I got tired of trying to come up with different things to describe Mello as to differentiate him from Matt. Some examples of the ones before are:_

"_the voice" (This was a major one.), "the person on the other line", "the guy", "that man", "his blonde companion", "the enraged German on the other line", "the man" and, of course, just plain "Mello"_

_I think "the guy" and "that/the man" are my favorites. _

_(Goofy grin here. Think Spongebob in that one episode when he looks like a total- never mind. That's every episode.)_

_By the way, so all of you to know just how much of a complete dork I am, I'd like to congratulate myself on catching a shiny Marill in the Great Marsh while playing Pokémon: Pearl. I named it Peridot because it's a pretty green colour, and two levels later it evolved into a sickeningly bright yellow Azumarill._

_I can't figure out which thing is more dorkier._

_Oh well, either way I'm a whale penis, so it all works out...? I guess._

_I guess you could say the reason I'm writing all this is because it ties in with weaknesses and imperfection, which is a big portion of what this piece is all about._

_Anyways, I wanted to write something that encompasses how this pairing makes me feel._

_And this piece is what came out._

_Cake-chan_

* * *

_**Thump.**_

_Gasp._

My chest was heaving as I ran while these sounds kept echoing through my head. _Shit! What did Mello get into this time!?_ All Mello had managed to squeeze out of his lips was the name of a street before the sound of him falling to the ground, a few pained gasps and struggled breathing reached my ears.

So I was running. Running and praying to the gods I didn't believe in that Mello would still be alive when I found him. As I turned the corner into an alley, I smelled it.

**Burning flesh.**

Mello was… Mello was fucked up. Badly. His face was burned off- half of it, anyway. The hair around that section, including the eyebrow, was singed- and in the case of the eyebrow, burned- off. Most of his left arm, the entire left side of his back and his left pectoral muscle were badly burned. His left eye was bloody, and the area around it looked like it was cut by shrapnel; bits of glass were stuck in his face. There were countless bruises and scrapes all over his body, but there was a rather nasty gash along his right thigh.

I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance- a sign of the first rainfall in a bloody month. But god, that smell! Burning flesh. Fucking_ tissue _burning.

I retched into a dumpster- which, by all accounts, was more delightful than that smell, and the dumpster was filled with week old garbage- and when that was done, looked back at Mello, wiping vomit from the corner of my mouth.

Mello was on his knees, wobbling a bit, and as he began falling backwards, I made a dive for him. I grabbed him with my right arm, because he was facing me and I didn't want to touch those burns. Mello's head fell onto my shoulder, his right cheek resting on it, and his right arm fell near my ass, not even moving away. Limp. Weak. Hot, ragged breaths assaulted my neck. He gave a weak cry and I unloaded on him. I knew I was supposed to be helping, but, _god_dammit, I was fucking pissed!

"Mello, what the **fuck** were you thinking!? When you called me and asked me to rig explosives up to the walls of that fucking abandoned mission, you said you were just taking _precautions_! You never said one _fucking_ word about actually _setting them off_- or, for that matter, with _you still inside of it_!! Christ, how do you even fucking _live_ with total disregard for your safety!?"

He was silent for a long while.

A streak of lightening illuminated the darkened sky as rain began to pour and thunder crashed. Mello's breath shuddered as cold rain began hitting his wounds. His lips brushed against the sensitive skin of my neck as he spoke.

"Please don't. Please… I'm already… yelling… Don't yell at me, too… Not you, Matt… Not…" He trailed off, his voice gradually becoming higher pitched and painful. He was vulnerable emotionally, as well as physically, right now.

I kissed his forehead- the part not burned, of course- and made a shushing noise. After a moment, I looked him over once more. "These wounds are bad, Mel. I'm worried they'll become infected if we don't get you to a hospital. I'm not that great at nursing burns."

At the word hospital his hands clenched. Even without words, I knew Mello didn't want me to take him to one. Where they would ask how the hell he got this way.

Blood trickled down the folds in the skin of his left hand. I loosened it and rosary beads spilled out across the ground, rolling into filthy puddles. The crucifix was being held so tightly before that it had been digging into his hand. I picked it up, out of his hand. It was broken in half. Jagged. The body of Christ was missing.

It was ironic. At this moment it felt to me that it was because Christ himself was lying in my arms, broken and defeated, yet still pressing on towards salvation.

I couldn't help myself. It was beautiful. Painfully bittersweet.

As I sat there staring up at the sky, letting the rain fall on my face-

The crucifix, the broken man in my arms, those sacred beads rolling in filth and the stench of burning flesh made me feel. Made me- someone uncaring and apathetic- feel hopeless. It was all so heart-wrenchingly tragic.

-tears began running down my cheeks.


	3. Dreams

_I don't know. The last piece, while I read it back after writing it, I realized that there was something so beautiful about it. So in the final typed version, I put a little bit of that in there. And yes. Don't you think this pairing is heart-wrenchingly tragic? _

_Two guys with no one to lean on but each other, trying to fight a battle so futile, while knowing that neither of them will come out of it alive._

_I mean, I don't know why, but I think it says a lot about humans in general. When it comes to my own mortality, I can't even deal with it sometimes. (Which is why I take pills and why I like to believe in some sort of life after this one.) I think that everyone experiences a point in their lives where they fully realize their own mortality._

_And when they do, they realize that everything we do in life is one futile battle with no hope of winning. Which is why I like the MattMello pairing the most. (Yes, even more than NearMello, gasp!) _

_Anyways, about this present piece, it started with me thinking on how Mello responds to situations differently than normal people. However, he's not as big of a bastard as he seems. When it comes down to it, he really _is_ a caring person (He wouldn't be so intent on beating Near and getting revenge for L's death if he wasn't.). He just has different ways of expressing himself._

_Originally this piece ended with Mello saying that last speaking part of his, but, of course, I felt the need to put something else in there. _

_I hope you guys enjoy this one- I know I enjoyed writing it. _

_-Cake-chan (And slippered is _too_ a word! I just invented right now.)_

* * *

Flames were leaping up around him. Other children were screaming as fiery beams and metal were falling from the ceiling. But where did that leave poor, little Mattie? He was only six years old and all alone. Even now, he was all alone in the corner of the room as flames were growing closer to his slippered feet. It was odd and he couldn't fully comprehend the entire situation. He wasn't scared at all; he just stared at the door to his right and cried. 

Smoke filled his lungs, fiery hot ash searing down his throat. He had wasted all his energy coughing and crying. This was the end.

_What's that smell?_

It smelled like… cooked meat. It made him quite hungry and sick all at once. Where was it-

That was when he noticed a child lying on the ground, crushed beneath a fallen beam. It was Jeremy. But he wasn't- He wasn't dead yet. As he was screaming, Matt finally noticed why. He was…

He was on fire.

His flesh popped and crackled, and the flames devoured it bit by bit. That was- Oh god. He was smelling meat. Meat cooking. _Jeremy_ cooking. He was smelling the other children. Still screaming, still alive.

He was nauseous. Why wouldn't they die?? They kept screaming- _Stop screaming! Please! Stop it!_ - until finally he could stand it no longer.

"Just die already!"

A blackened arm, burnt by the fire, grabbed his wrist. He couldn't move. He was paralyzed. It was burning his skin, but he couldn't move. Couldn't- didn't want to- look at the child's face. Gradually, more little black arms began to reach out and hold him down. He was suffocating and they were burning him. As he looked up, he could see their faces. They were blackened by the fire and pieces of skin were sliding off their face. Dry, crackling pieces that were engulfed in flames as they hit his chest.

Finally, he looked up and saw Mello, smiling at him, face burning more than it already had been. His smile was malicious and as he spoke, it was distorted. Like in those movies where they had a demonic voice speaking along with the person's regular voice.

Mello put his hands around Matt's throat, over his mouth and nose.

"Not until you follow us into hell."

---------

I shot upward and the smell of burning flesh was still fresh in my mind. I could smell it. I gasped for air and then screamed. Beads of sweat came pouring out all over my body, but they were cold. My chest was heavy and I felt as if I couldn't breath. I screamed once more until all I could do was gasp for air.

I was in a dark room. I could feel soft sheets over me, and realized I was in my apartment. I was still safe. Everything was okay now.

My hands were shaking and I reached over to the other side of the bed for one of the mussed pillows. My fingers feeling around for a while until they reached what I wanted.

I grabbed the box of cigarettes and tried opening it. My hands were shaking too hard and it fell to the floor. My bottom lip trembled and I ran a hand through my damp hair, pulling it away from my forehead.

I turned on the television and muted the volume. There was a Playstation controller beside the bed and I reached for it. I had to keep my mind off of it. Keep my heart from racing too fast.

"Matt?"

As I was lifting the controller, I spotted Mello on the couch. He was staring directly at me and I knew it was because I was acting scared. I _needed_ to pull myself together. For Mello's sake. He needed to rest in order to heal quickly. Time was against us.

I wanted to tell him I was fine. That I was sorry for waking him up.

He was lying on the couch, topless, all bandaged up and lying on his stomach. His arm was draped over the edge, onto the ground, and his good cheek was resting on the arm of the couch.

But I still couldn't speak.

"Matt." He spoke again. Firmer. He sounded calm and collected, but I could tell by the look on his face that I had spooked him. His visible eye was wide; his mouth was in a half-open gape, as opposed to his usual grimace. _I think he's worried about me. God, how can he be worried about_ me_? Whatever the reason, it's making me happy._

I tried- **tried**- to speak. My mouth opened but there was a lump catching the sound, keeping it from escaping. I closed my mouth, swallowed, sat back up and stared at the controller, head down.

"Matt. _Look at me._"

When I didn't, he stood up and stepped towards me. His hand grabbed my chin and right cheek, forced my face to turn and face his. He looked me over to make sure I was fine, before knocking me square in the jaw. "You scared the shit outta me, Matt. Now scoot over. I can't lie with my burns facing away from the bed from the other side."

I scooted over and Mello accommodated himself. It was true, he was able to lie exactly like he was on the couch, even though the burn across his chest was being pressed into the bed. However, instead of lying on his good cheek, he laid on the burned one. Facing me.

It hurts. I can tell by the grimace and the sharp intake of air through gritted teeth he makes, but he does it, nonetheless. After he relaxed a bit, he stopped looking at me and closed his eyes. Soon I could hear his steady breathing, slightly cut short towards the end in that way he does only when he's sleeping, even though his breathing was a bit more labored now.

I sat up and turned off the television, laid back down and stared at Mello's bandaged face for the rest of the night.

_There's no way in hell I'm going to go back to sleep after a nightmare like that._


	4. Smoke

_Ah. I hated typing up the dream in the last piece. It was irritating trying to get any emotion into it. I'm quite sadly more like Near than I'd like to be. I actually tend to distance myself from the world around me, emotionally. So, it's quite difficult trying to get the right amount of emotion into everything I write._

_So it ended up not evoking the feeling I was trying to get across. So, I'll just have to try harder next time._

_This one thing deals with why Matt doesn't have actual firearms with him at the end of his life. I know, they wanted to make sure Takada (skank) was still alive and all, but come on. Mello blew himself up. What's not to say that he wouldn't have cared if Matt shot the tires of their cars? _

_Anyways, I still think it'd be great if Matt had an obsession with smoke. (Not just smoking, but smoke in general.)_

_Eh, I don't know what to make of this piece._

_But I like the last line. _

_-Cake-chan_

* * *

I had always been afraid of fire ever since I was a small boy. Ironically, my experience with fire left a queer quirk regarding smoke. I loved it. By all accounts, it reminded me of myself. Like smoke in the wind, I drifted through the world, apathetic to the problems it faced. Also, unlike fire it was- for the most part- harmless. Just as I was- harmless. Aside from that, it was beautiful as it drifted up into the sky, weaving patterns as it went. 

…

Or perhaps it was the fact that it nearly killed me. After all, I had been rescued from a burning building, my lungs filled with smoke. Miraculously I survived, but at the cost of the life of the person who rescued me. Maybe, deep down I felt as if I should've died that day.

Maybe that was even why I smoked- a morbid desire to kill myself with what should have killed me all those years ago. Either way, from an early age I decided that, if it were my choice, I would rather go out in a cloud of smoke.

And, if possible, maybe even a hail of bullets.


	5. Blondes

_Hmmm… I'd say I was sorry that the last chapter was so short- but I'm not. It's better off that way. You should be feeling lucky. I almost typed "Just like a cowboy" after the last line._

_As awesome as that would be, it would have taken away from the finality in the last statement. After all, why do you think I am typing in past tense?_

_Actually, it's mostly because I enjoy typing in it._

_But is all of it just for that reason?_

_Anyways, this next one explains his Mello complex. That pairing is so canon, it's not even funny. The only thing keeping it from being canon is probably the fact that Obata is a man._

_So, enjoy this piece. _

_I'm eager to get to the next chapter- in which the actual chapters start, as opposed to all of these one-shots. Then it should be getting a bit more humorous. _

_(Rubs hands together, here.)_

_Speaking of humor, I typed up "as mall boy" instead of "a small boy" in the last piece while I was typing it up._

_-Cake-chan _

_(The joke is I was typing it up about Matt and "mall boy" sounds like a name for the type of guy who goes to the mall 'troling for mall ass. Yes, I know I'm terribly unfunny. I get points for trying, not by pulling it off.)_

* * *

Before I arrived at Wammy's House, I lived in an orphanage in the seediest part of London. My real mother had abandoned me at a very young age. She was only sixteen at the time, and I soon learned at the age of four that she had been a prostitute. 

The lady who told me was named Susan.

Miss Susan had fluffy, pale blonde hair that framed her face. She had a button of a nose and a soft voice. The night of the fire- the night she gave up her life for mine and I was transferred to Wammy's House- I lost faith in everything. In people, in myself, in what little family I had, and in God.

Miss Susan was charismatic and very bold. While she had a gentle voice, when we were alone she let down her guard and showed me who she really was. She had the mouth of a sailor, a quick wit and a viper-like tongue. She could break even the hardest of men down until they were weeping like infants. She knew when it was the right time to break into loud, boorish laughter, and she always seized that opportunity.

In every way, she was like a boy. She spat, she got dirty, she broke the rules- especially when others benefited from it. To tell you the truth, she actually had a kind heart, though everything else pointed to the contrary. All of the children thought of her as a sister.

I was only one that thought of her as a mother. And I was the only one she regarded as a son. I was her favorite and she told me things none of the other children could have dreamed of hearing.

She taught me how to charm girls, how to make smoke bombs and other explosives, how to work a computer and a digital camera. In fact, it was on her computer that I first learned how to hack. I smoked my first cigarette with her- I never smoked the stuff until I turned thirteen, but she was the one that gave me my first cigarette. She gave me my first beer, and we would sit on the back steps every day and have a beer, right around lunch time. And even though she never acknowledged me as a son until her last breath, I still regarded her as a mother.

To this day, I still, in every sense of the word, prefer blondes.


	6. Wall of Porn

_And here is where the fun begins. This is originally where the title of this entire fic comes from! It was originally going to be titled Vomit. It was supposed to begin with Mello throwing up, and end with him vomiting after finding out Matt died. But, it's not like that anymore. And I recently learned that Mello is still in those ugly clothes of his as he dies. Which means he didn't have time to change out of those clothes. So he probably didn't have time to vomit, either. Unless she killed him in the middle of it, which is horridly unpleasant. Imagine yourself vomiting, and then right in the middle of it your chest starts burning and you begin to convulse. And you're wearing the ugliest striped piece of crap the world has ever seen.  
_

_Hell, _I_ would hate dying like that. No point in making _Mello_- who is twice the awesome as I am- die like that._

_Anyways. This chapter switches back and forth through perspectives. Hopefully I'll figure out which one to stay in and stick with it._

_-Cake-chan (My inner frat boy is absolutely giddy with delight by my use of the word pussy a few times. Huzzah!)_

* * *

Mello woke up. On _the_ wrong side of the bed. Not just _the_ wrong side of the bed, but the side of the bed so far off to the left it's a wonder he found his way across that stretch of land to plant his feet on the floor. His head was hurting like a bitch. He was sore all over. His wounds had opened back up. His earlobe was already infected and now he felt nauseous. 

Then he saw it-

-----------------------

I was currently admiring my recently erected- no pun intended- Wall of Porn™, which consisted of over 200 centerfolds from at least fifteen different girlie mags which I had collected over the course of at least a decade. All of them were blondes. All of them were dead sexy. I didn't even bother keeping the pages with redheads or brunettes on them. I threw those away. Only the blondes stayed.

... Except for that big breasted one with the hooked nose. Her face had been cut out. She was not a looker, for sure. At least not in the face. I had replaced her face with one of the brunettes' face that was absolutely stunning.

But my baby- my Wall of Porn™- covered the entire fucking wall. An entire fucking wall full of hot, blonde pussy. Yes. It was a good day, my friends. And then Mello had to go ruin it.

"Matt. Tear that filth off the wall before I do it for you. And let me tell you something- I'm not the type to painstakingly remove it so nothing gets ripped."

Well, _duh_. This was Mello, not _Near_. Near had absolutely ruined my last one. And the worst part about it? It wasn't because he ripped them up. Oh no, he was able to remove the entire bloody thing in one motion_ without any of it tearing_. The worst part was that Mello had ripped the entire thing to shreds_ just_ because Near was able to do that. I had to win so many bets just collecting all of it. Over three whole years. Most of the ones Mello had ripped were not even in circulation these days. They couldn't be bought cheap anymore.

I had finally re-erected it, and there was no way in _hell_ Mello was going to force me to take this down.

"Matt, did you even hear a fucking word I said? Take that shit off the wall! I don't want to be staring at a wall full of boobs and pussy all day!"

_Oh yeah. He set himself up, right there. _

"Well, if it bothers you so much then don't look at it."

The lack of emotion in my voice was actually quite frightening. I sounded like Near. And when I heard him snarl I knew I was going to get it, but I didn't care. I went back to putting another picture of Veronica on the wall. I swore I heard him growl lowly like some kind of angry cat when I turned back around to him. Something made me want to egg him on.

"Sheesh Mello. You act as if you're gay or something."

When his face dropped for a second, I grinned like a maniac. That's what I felt like right now. A fucking maniac. I had to be one to be egging him on like this. His eyes narrowed so much I couldn't even see his pupils. _Yikes. He really looks like a demon right now._

The acid in his voice made me tremble. "**Hell no.** I just happen to respect women. Besides," his eyes stopped glaring and he had a typical look of supremacy on his face as he grinned. "you have _no_ room to talk. I saw those piles of _Playgirl_ you have hidden under your bed."

_Shit! When did he find those!?_

I must've paled, because he looked right at me and gave me a wink. "If you want, I can pull them out right now and you can add a few men to that wall."

However, I bounced back, giving him a smile of my own. "Why yes. Why don't we put some up there so _you_ can have something to jack off to?"

His face also paled, but I could tell it wasn't from embarrassment. He put a hand over his stomach and looked down. Apparently the poor bastard was ill.

"Whatever, Matt. Just come over here and give me a massage."

_Ill my ass._ He was probably doing it so I'd bend to his will. No way in hell. Not after I'd stood up for my Wall of Porn™. I flashed him another grin and said in my most cheery voice, "Wouldn't you rather have a _girl_ come by and do it for you?"

-----------------------

Mello's eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?" Matt jumped onto the couch and sank into it, all the while wearing a winning smile. Mello rolled his eyes. How on earth did he find that much energy so early in the morning? He was like the energizer bunny. Matt slouched a bit, glancing back at his Wall of Pussy. "Well, I thought that since I'm all in _love_ with you, I don't want to make you uncomfortable… Seeing as how you're straight and all…" Mello stared at him for a moment. _Wait, I never accused him of being in love with me. What the fuck-?_ Whatever, he needed to stay dominate in the conversation.

"Honestly Matt, grow a brain. You know they'd just start asking questions, like, 'Oh, how did your face get like that?' or just cringe and run away deeming it 'gross'." Matt huffed. "Well what if I don't want to give you a massage because it makes _me_ uncomfortable?"

Mello stood up, smiling sweetly, mocking concern. "Oh, you _poor_ thing." Then he frowned, glaring at the redhead like a cranky child. "My back feels like it's got an entire three-ring circus on it, and I'm the one with the gun. You better hope that _my_ comfort comes first!"

Matt pouted. "But I-" Mello walked over and raised his hand. "You what?! You're afraid you're gonna get a hard-on?! Honestly, unless you've got a serious mental disorder, I think sticking my gun in your open mouth is enough to keep your dick from rising!!" Matt frowned. "Wait a minute, don't you usually stuff your gun into your crotch? So _technically_ I'd have your dick in my mouth." It took all of Mello's self-control not to backhand him. "Whoever said I was straight anyway!?"

Matt blinked. "But… you're Catholic…"

"So what if I am!? There's plenty of gay Catholics! Just look in the news!" Matt pointed a finger at his face. "But back at Wammy's House, you told me yourself that you weren't gay. Which is it? Or do you like both?" Mello was cranky, sleepy, and _really_ frustrated at this point. He felt as if he was going to vomit.

"All of them!! _None_ of them!! For all I care, I might as well be a necrophiliac!!" Matt stifled a laugh. "You'd rather fuck dead people? So, what, you fantasize about L or something?" With one swift blow to the head, Matt was lying on the ground, unconscious. Shortly thereafter, Mello vomited on his head. "Annoying little dick," he said, wiping the spittle from the corner of his mouth.

And with that, he promptly headed to the shower.


	7. Two Thugs in a Tub

_Harr harr. Mello puked in Matt's hair. Matt's precious hair is now dirty blonde._

_I'm incorrigible. Really. Someone stop me before I make a fool of myself. And don't even ask about the title of this chapter. Just don't.  
_

_As for why Matt said he loved Mello? Matt seems to me like the type of person to go running his mouth without realizing what he's saying. He also seems like the type of person who can get hyperactive every once in a while._

_Yes. In my mind, Matt has ADD. It would explain why he's only third, and why he can get so absorbed in video games. Aside from people trying to escape reality, people with ADD are the ones that can easily get engrossed in a video game for hours on end. Sorry if I sound biased. _

_Eh, I'm rambling. I'm currently trying to cut back on the amount of information I give out. It's bothering me when I look back and look at all the shit I put. I mean honestly? Half the stuff sounds too fucking depressing. But all of that's in the past now. I haven't been taking my medications lately and I've started feeling **happier.** Fucking Zoloft ain't got nothing on me.  
_

_You see Mello at a weak moment in this one. _

_Again._

_- Cake-chan (Oh, and I make Matt a bit more aggressive. Sorry. I just don't see him letting Mello treat him like a dog. Outside of sex, of course. -winks- )_

* * *

When I woke up, Mello was nowhere in sight. I smelled vomit. When I ran a hand through my hair, I realized why. It wasn't grease; it was puke. "Ah shit, you bastard!" I jumped up, visibly cringing. "You fucking puked in my hair!" I turned to face the bed, where Mello was laughing it up. I blinked once, realizing he wasn't there. I blinked again when I found the keys to the car still on the table. Mello never left the apartment without the car keys- even when he wasn't taking the car or the motorcycle. This was to keep 'annoyances'- a.k.a. **me**- at home where they belonged. Because apparently I was some kind of housewife to him. 

Well I knew Mello never cried- yes, never, even when he was near death back at the beginning of my charming little story- and I knew he bled every once in a while, when he came back from doing something reckless or if a wound opened up, but I wasn't too sure about vomiting. Therefore, if Mello vomited, it meant he was really, _really _sick. He certainly wasn't a vulture- vomiting when he felt threatened- so he had indeed meant it when he said he wanted me to give him a massage. If there was one thing I was sure of, it was that Mello only allowed me to touch him when he was feeling like shit. And no, not just 'I feel irritated because my arm is sore' kind of shit. I'm talking about the 'If you don't give me at least some relief to this pain, I might just die' kind of shit.

So, if Mello letting me touch him equaled 'Help me', then Mello vomiting equaled imminent disaster. _Fuck, Mello. Don't die on me. Not now. Not after you almost died just a few weeks ago. _

I then noticed the boots. You see, Mello never took off his boots unless he was in the shower. Yes. Only then. This was because he always needed to be ready to bolt at a moment's notice. Or at least he picked up that habit in the mafia. Either way, him being in the shower meant I would have to wait a while to get the vomit out of my hair. Damn. That anger surged in me once more.

I headed to the bathroom, pounding at the door with my fist. "Mello, you fucking asshole! You puked all over my _head_!! What the hell was that for!?" I paused for a while, but he didn't answer. I huffed. "Well _fine_!! I deserved it, happy!? The least you can do is _answer_!" He still didn't answer, and I put my ear up to the door. All I could hear was the water running, and that was nowhere near loud enough to keep Mello from hearing me. Why the hell wasn't he responding?

Oh wait. Shit.

Since there was only one bathroom in the apartment, we had an unspoken agreement to not lock the door. Instead, we both would just knock and see if the other was decent and let us in. Since Mello wasn't responding, there was no telling if he was decent or not. Or whether he was conscious or not.

"Mello, you better not be unconscious and naked when I open this door!"

I was only half-right.

Mello was sitting there, fully clothed, hunched over and on his knees. So, he wasn't naked, but was he unconscious? Or, for that matter, was he even alive? I pushed on his head. "Shit, you really must be one sick-" When he slumped over, I swear my heart stopped, if only for moment. My legs felt like jelly and I stood there, my hand trembling over his body for a moment. He couldn't really be dead, right? He was Mello. He'd always be there, pushing me around and telling me what to do. _Right_?

"C-Come on, Mel. This isn't funny."

I shuddered, a cold feeling running down my spine, and bent down, pulling him up by grabbing onto his shoulder. "Christ Mello, show me you're not brain dead…" I shook him firmly, then brushed the hair out of his face. His face was red and he was sweating like crazy; his eyes were shut in pain, and he was making a soft groaning noise, like he couldn't stay awake. When I put the back of my hand up to his forehead, it was burning hot.

"Dammit, you've got a fever. Let's get you in the tub." I was about to grab him by the armpits and hoist him into the tub, but his eyes fluttered opened and he coughed, letting a bit of spittle fly out of his mouth and onto the linoleum. Then I noticed the vomit all over his shirt.

"_Don't_ touch me."

I would have smiled that he had returned to his usual, pissy self, had his voice not been so weak. He was still in trouble, but angry that I had ignored his plea for help the first time. Now he was just being a big baby. I wouldn't let his temper tantrum keep him from feeling better.

"Admit it, Mel. You need my help. You can hardly even stand up to get the vomit out of your shirt."

"I _don't-_" He stopped and made a weird croaking noise. I was skeptical, and put his arm over my shoulder, hoisting him up and holding him steady with my free arm holding his waist.

"Anything you don't mind getting wet, feel free to keep on." I glanced at Mello, waiting for him to remove all of that leather he was wearing. It would take forever to dry if it got wet. Instead, he scowled.

"I am _not_ getting dumped in that tub…"

I smiled, and I saw him give me this weird eyebrow quirk, so I figured I was smiling a bit too sadistically. "I doubt you'll be able to stop me. You're too weak to stand by yourself, let alone struggle to keep me from shoving you in there."

He turned his face to mine, so that it was mere centimeters away, and hissed through clenched teeth. He spoke menacingly, slow and acidic. "I _won't_ be like this forever, Matt. Now _put me down._"

I grinned a bit, bumped my forehead against his playfully, then stood back, leaving him without any support. "Fine! You win."

Mello's legs buckled and he fell face forward into the water, the water that he had drawn for himself splashing into his face and soaking the top of his leather vest. He lay there for a while, before rising up to his arms- which were over the edge of the tub in the water, meaning his gloves were also soaked- and turning his head to me. He looked like a drowned cat, to be quite honest. His eyes were wide and he howled so venomously, part of me thought he was about to get up and knock my block off.

"**Matt!** These clothes will take _half a week_ to fucking dry! The gloves are practically ruined, you shithead! They cost me over two hundred bucks! You bloody wanker!"

_Awesome! His accent is back! I haven't heard that in a long time._

I smiled. "Aw. I almost forgot how cute that accent made you sound." Mello just glared and stared at me. As if I was supposed to apologize or something. I wasn't letting him off that easy, so instead I just shrugged. "Well, the top half of you is in the tub, I might as well get the bottom half in." As I stepped towards him, about to grab him by the thighs and drag him over the edge into the tub, he shook his head a bit.

"Wait."

I paused and let him finish. Although I doubted it would be anything new.

"You get me out of this water right now."

Right. Of course. "Or what? You'll just lie here all day waiting for your strength to return, in your own vomit? I will not allow it." I put my hands on my hips and felt like some kind of mother hen yelling at her spoiled chick. Mello really was like a bratty two year old.

He blinked, then looked at the wall. At the floor- anywhere except directly into my eyes. Ha ha. So the king finally felt small. "Well…"

I smiled and waited for him to continue, but he didn't, so I cleared my throat. "Alright, so _now_ you see how childish you're acting?" He looked back and smiled a bit. He looked as if he was ready for a little bit of rough-housing.

"Don't think I'll make it easy on you."

--------------------------

"What the hell made you so sick, anyways?"

I was currently soaked in water. Mello_ did_ have enough energy to slosh it all over me as I dragged him out of the tub. I took solace in the fact that he was grinning like a maniac. He was mostly fine. But that still didn't explain all the vomit and fever. Currently, his legs were bent, spread as if he wanted me to take him, and I was pulling off his socks. His only response was a grunt and the sound of him pulling those soggy gloves off his hands.

Well he was right about not making it easy on me.

We were both quiet for a moment, and I finished the socks, looking at him and reaching out an arm for the vest. "Come on, at least tell me why you're so sick." He glared at me and lifted the lock of hair covering his left ear. The sheer force of the explosion had nearly cut his ear right off, and I had to sew the tendon back to the muscle in his face.

"I don't know, Matt. Maybe it's because your sewing skills need work."

I reached for the zipper and he slapped my hand away. Instead of pouting, I just stared at that damn ear. It was true- my sewing skills were amateur, at best- and when I looked at it more closely, I saw that the stitching had indeed come out and pus was leaking out of the wound. So that was it, eh? An infection?

He leaned towards me as he took his vest off and snarled a bit. "That's not all, dumbass. Look at the fucking tear from the shrapnel." When I looked at it, I realized that it, too, had come loose. It wasn't nearly as bad as the ear, but there was fluid leaking out, albeit not necessarily infected. The glass had made a slice right through his face, separating the good skin from that which had been scorched when the flames broke through the left eye of the gasmask and assaulted the tissue the glass was trying to protect. This slice was what had opened back up.

"Oh shit." It was him that turned to look this time. The scars he had running down his forearm and neck had also become infected, along with the burn over his right 'breast'. No, he did not have moobs, men had breasts, too. They were just less useful and didn't stick out as far. Anyways, the burn across his chest was infected as well.

Mello echoed me with an 'Oh shit' of his own, then looked back at me again. "Matt, check my back."

And then, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, he straightened his legs and lay his chest against the ground, like some kind of fucking cheerleader. To be honest, my eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Christ, Mello. You weren't that flexible before!"

I could tell he was in pain- and who wouldn't be?- when he hissed at me. "Just check my back." I did as he told and discovered that out of all the other wounds, it was the only thing _not_ infected.

I gave a low whistle as he sat back up. I didn't say anything, and he gave me this _look. _"Well? Is my back infected, too?" I shook my head, and he cocked his head to the side and sneered. "How the hell is that not infected? It should be healing the slowest."

I shrugged, then gave him my own look, speaking in a low voice. "How the hell did you become that flexible?"

Mello sneered at me. "Why the hell do you care?" I shrugged again, and he pondered it for a moment, as if considering if he should be telling me why. Of course, this just made me more interested. I laughed.

"What, did you pole dance for all of your mafia buddies or something?"

He looked at me, his face completely blank, but didn't say anything. Hell, now I was even more interested then I was in more than half the video games I had ever beaten during my life. I started geeking out. "No way! Come on, don't tell me you actually did that!"

He cleared his throat, then began unbuckling his belt. "Let's just say… I've done things I'm not necessarily proud of…" This wasn't satisfying my curiosity at all! If anything, it had only succeeded in making me more eager to figure out what he did.

His fingers were all mush, as I expect anyone with that serious of an infection would have, and he started getting perturbed at his inability to unbuckle his own belt. I reached over and shooed his hands away to help him with it, but his leg shot out right into my groin. Well, it knocked the wind out of me, and I grabbed my jewels as my face landed right in between Mello's legs.

The hair on the backs of our necks was standing up and Mello stiffened, pushing my head away. "What the hell, you pervert!?" I was still recovering, and if that wasn't awkward enough, what happened next became the icing on top of the cake.

"Ah, Jesus, Matt! What the hell!? Keep your bloody nose away from me!" I moved one of my hands to my nose and turned deep red. Man, my nose was really dripping. I stood up and grabbed a towel, shoving it against my nose and glaring at Mello.

"Me!? A pervert!? I was only trying to help you unbuckle your belt! You're the one who freaked out about it! Something dirty going on inside your head or something, Mr. Pole Dancer!? You fucking sleaze-bag!"

Mello spat right back at me with just as much anger. "What am I supposed to think!? First you say you're in love with me and then you suddenly start grabbing at my crotch!" I froze dead in my tracks.

"I said _what_?"

Mello flashed a grin. "Oh _really_? You don't remember that? Well, I'll just let you stew over that for a while. Now help me with this belt like you were going to before. I feel sick and dirty, and you smell like vomit."

I could have said something, but I decided not to. Mello was right. Besides, he didn't seem to care that I had accidentally spilled the beans. But still, how could that not bother him? How could he just ignore it and ask me to help him with his belt buckle? If he was bothered by it, he wasn't saying anything. And this was Mello- Mello loved confrontation so he would've told me about it by now. "Alright…" I sat down, removed the towel from my nose and began undoing his belt buckle.

He shifted his ass forward and leaned his back against the tub. All of that action must've taken a lot out of him, because the next thing I knew, my head was covered in vomit again. Mello was leaning over himself, over my arms as they were shoved into his groin when he lurched forward to retch. His breathing was ragged and I could see him grimace through his puke-stained hair and that reddened, sweaty face. I freed an arm to brush some of the hair from out of his mouth, but he pushed it away.

"Don't look at me."

I ignored it, but he just raised his voice.

"Don't touch me! Don't- Just get out of here! Don't look at me when I'm like this!" His voice was hoarse, as I expected it to be, from the acid burning his throat, just like when the smoke from my cigarette sears its way down my throat, only not as bad.

_It must be tough being Mello. Being too prideful to admit you're weak. Too prideful to accept help. _

"No."

He glared at me, but even I could tell he was about to pass out. "Didn't you hear me? That's an order." I was loyal, yes, but not so loyal that I'd take this shit like I was some kind of… like I was some kind of fucking _lackey_. I was his _friend_, not a _dog._ So yes, you could say that I was a bit pissed.

"Fuck you, Mello. I'm not your pet, I'm your friend. Now stop barking orders and allow me to push you off your little pedestal to help you."

I'd be lying if I said it didn't feel great. I'd be lying if I said that the sight of his eyes widening and him shutting his mouth and letting me take control didn't make me want to smile. However, I didn't smile, because I was being serious and Mello needed to grow up for the moment and let someone help him.

I took the belt off and began untying the laces of those leather pants of his. I was a bit surprised to see that beneath the laces there were at least five more buttons, but I ignored it and started to unbutton his pants. However, I wasn't surprised to see that Mello wasn't wearing anything underneath those pants. I'd stared at his ass countless times to note that there weren't any 'panty lines' plaguing that tight ass of his.

"Fuck Mello. Didn't you ever pay attention in school? Men who keep their penises close to their body end up shooting blanks."

Mello rolled his eyes. "Hell yes I did. The fact that I can't impregnate women is just a perk. Not only do I look fucking sexy, but I can sleep with as many skanks as I want without becoming a father." I sighed. _That's just like Mello._

But I had another question. "And another thing, what the hell is up with your hair? Since when did you wax, er, shave?"

Mello put a hand to his forehead, hiding the fact that he was blushing- which didn't get past me, of course. "When you wear pants this low and show off your belly, you don't want some ugly ass happy trail lighting the way. And I wax, by the way. None of that sissy garbage. Besides, I'd rather not knick the merchandise, thanks."

_Once again, that's just like Mello. I'm finding out so much stuff that I probably should rather not want to know. However, that still doesn't answer that flexibility question._

As I was squeezing those tight leather pants off his hips, I decided to ask again. "Say Mello-"

But he beat me to it.

"In order to get close to the mafia, I had to act as a male stripper and earn money. However, the clubs were sleazy and didn't mind hiring under-aged teenagers. Like I said, I did things I wasn't proud of." _Right. So he was a stripper after he left the orphanage? Fucking Christ, what is he? The modern day Marilyn Monroe? Of course he is. Like a fucking candle in the wind. Because that's what Mello is, right? He's always been this way. I am smoke and Mello is fire. Leaping, untamable fire. Maybe that's why I am so attracted to him. Like a fucking moth to a flame. Like the very fucking fire that should have killed me. And after all, you can't have fire without smoke, right? They go hand in hand. I want to just grab his hand and hold onto it forever. Of course, if I tell him this he'll just call me a fucking softie. A fucking girl._

I grunted a bit, working at the pants as they got less and less tight the farther down his legs they went. If it was supposed to be a comfortable silence, then it would only be Mello thinking that way. It wasn't until I pulled them off his legs that I noticed he was looking at me. As if daring me to do something. But I wouldn't. That wouldn't be right now would it? Taking advantage of him while he was weak.

Mello. Weak. It was sort of a foreign thought, the only thing keeping it from being foreign having been when he was clutching onto my shoulder weakly, trying his best not to cry. After the explosion. So I sat there, sitting in front of Mello as he sat naked against the tub, staring at me. Until he finally said something.

"You're right, Matt. I'm a total sleaze-bag. But you know what? I fucking enjoy it."

I bent down and picked him up, trying my best not to hurt his left side. He hissed and groaned in pain, but said nothing. When he was finally in the tub, waist deep in water, I grabbed a washcloth and lathered it up with soap to begin washing the vomit out of his face, away from his mouth. He relaxed for a bit, until the red in his face went down, then he grabbed the washcloth from me and started doing it himself. After all, I was only there to keep him from breaking beyond repair. All of the other regular maintenance was his job, not mine.

I watched him for a while, before he turned to me and scowled. "Take a picture, Matt. It'll last longer."

I grabbed the shampoo behind his back and stood up, walking toward the sink. Part of me didn't believe him. If he enjoyed it, then there wouldn't be anything to not be proud of. Right? Mello always built a wall of egotism around him to hide his true self, but I never said anything about it.

I was beginning to wonder why I didn't bring it up. It might've done the bastard some good, ya know?


	8. Lidocaine and Chocolate

_I'll keep this short. _

_I had more fun typing the last chapter than I have in a while. Since Akon. I think I mentioned it before in _Locked Door_- no wait, I haven't posted that chapter yet. Shit. I'll finish typing it after I type this chapter. I'd rather type this than that. To be quite honest, I'd rather write about Matt and Mello than Near. Yes, Near's my favorite, but he's a bump on a log, man. Matt and Mello are twice the cool. Twice the fun. Twice the man. _

_Twice the sex. _

_Near isn't sexy at all. Near's more cute, so there. Hence, why I'd rather write about them. Fun times, ya know? Maybe that's why I've been feeling happier lately. Less drama and more humor. Who knows._

_Holy crap, I just realized that the original for this chapter isn't even a page long. What the heck?! So, I should probably just combine it with the next chapter. Jeepers. The original chapter also restated Mello's wounds. Not really restated, since I hadn't typed them up before. But I'll be restating them anyways. Put some more meat into this chapter. Good, solid, sexy meat._

_I find Mello wounded sexy. Him and his infected ear. Much love, much love. I know I'm gross. Whatever._

_I'm rambling again. Sorry._

_Actually, now I forgot I have something important to mention. Alright, have any of you noticed how when Matt is all like 'OMG', instead of 'Oh my God', he says, 'Oh my god'? And how Mello thinks 'Oh my God'? That's not a mistake. I put it like that on purpose, since Mello believes in God, and Matt does not. Therefore, Matt wouldn't capitalize the G, since he does not believe in any god in general, much less one all-powerful God._

_I hope that makes sense…_

_That's just my religious background rearing its pretty head. _

_Oh sweet love child of God's virgin wife! I nearly forgot one more important thing! I like making Matt allergic to chocolate. Why? Because he's more of a fish and chips kind of guy. And the thought of Mello never sharing chocolate with Matt makes me sad. I knew a guy who was allergic to chocolate. He developed the allergy in middle school, too, simply because he ate it all the time as a kid._

_I'd like to think that if Matt were allergic to chocolate, it would be because Mello always force fed him the stuff as a kid. Wouldn't that be cute? I can see it now… _

"_Eat it, Matt!" "But Mello, I've eaten too much and my stomach feels queasy…" "Just eat it! After you throw up, you'll feel better!" "Why are you making me eat it, anyway??" "So you'll get sick of it and never ask me for it ever again!" "But Mello-" "Eat it, swine! Bahahaha!!"_

_-later, when Matt is older and eating chocolate to remember Mello-_

"_Ah, I remember when Mello used to- Oh god, why am I throwing up??" -after a while- "Maybe it's just because I'm sad. Let me try another piece. Oh dear sweet mother of Christ, I'm throwing up again! That liar! I don't feel any better after throwing up!"_

_Actually, that sounds more like a learned response rather than an allergy. Mello's so sneaky. Conditioning Matt to get sick when he eats his chocolate._

_Jeepers. This wasn't short at all, was it?_

_- Cake-chan (is such a freak. Guffaw.)_

* * *

That was how we wound up like this- Mello, half-submerged in the tub, feet up on the end, scowling, and me, washing my hair in the sink. I glanced back at him, chiding his childish behavior. "Mel, stop scowling. You know I had to make the water cold because of your fever… You should be glad you're getting a bath in the first place. With burns like that, I should be wiping you off with a sponge." 

But he scowled, all the same. "You know, I'm only sick because you did such a poor job sewing my gaping wounds up. And bandaging them. And nursing them. Never become a nurse, Matt. You'll end up killing all your patients."

I only shrugged. "You're the one that refused any pain killers. You try sewing it up yourself. I'll bet you'll have a hard time, too."

Mello grimaced at his bad luck, trying to come up with an excuse. Any excuse. "Yeah, well… … The painkillers you got are used on animals, Matt. Fucking _dogs_." I muttered how he had been treating me earlier was reminiscent to how you would treat a dog, but he never heard it. So instead I gave him my best steely-eyed glance and kept my mouth a line. Until finally-

"Let's see, Mel. Don't these words sound familiar? 'Don't go asking around for painkillers at hospitals, Matt. Knowing the cops, the first thing they'll do is ask around for people coming in with burns. People asking for painkillers stick out in doctor's minds just as much as people coming in for burns.' So guess what I did? I went to a dentist. Not a veterinarian, Mel. A dentist." He cursed sorely at my excellent memory.

It was the only way I had been able to get up to third in the first place, back at Wammy's House. I could hear an entire paragraph once and recite it from memory. In about a year, I was still able to remember the most important parts. Near walked up to me once and said if I applied myself, I'd probably become better than Mello and him combined. First of all, that couldn't have been true. I was nowhere near as smart as Mello. I knew that for a fact.

Plus, I was never one for applying myself in any way… at least for myself. Everything I did from an early age was done for one person, and one person only. Mello. I was smoke and he was fire. Without him, I was nothing.

He spoke again. "Alright. You have a point. I…"

I turned the faucet on and began rinsing all the shampoo out of my hair. "Yeh?" Mello just stared at his toes, wriggling them around a bit. All pink and pruned, looking like little fish dancing in the water. Mello sunk down lower, fighting for words and his scowl getting graver. I grabbed the shampoo bottle and squeezed some more into the palm of my hand, re-lathering my hair. Maybe he hadn't heard me? "Yeah?"

"Nevermind. It's nothing, Matt."

I turned to him, letting the shampoo from my hair drip onto the ground and into my eyes. I didn't mind the stinging. I kept them open, waiting before I said something. "Come on, Mel. It's not like you to avoid a conversation like this. Just spit it out already. I know you're feeling well enough to say it."

"_Okay._"

I paused as he fumbled for words. He was… Was he apologizing? Thanking me? What the hell was he trying to say?

"Well… we've been through a lot… and I guess you've been doing a… p-pretty good job so far. Well… the _best_ job… so far… So… I guess…"

I grinned. "Mello, are you _thanking_ me?" He turned and stared at me with wild eyes. His eyes looked around the room, searching for a million different excuses, which he could easily give of the top of the hat, but I knew him well, so he had to make sure it was sure to not go back and bite him in the ass.

"_No!_ I just… … I just want you to call me by my real name, is all."

This was the best he could do? I burst out laughing, some suds flying off my hair and landing on the tip of his nose. He brushed it off, and his face turned red. "Hey! Come on, Matt! I mean it!"

Sure, this was killer, and Mello knew it was useless to try and fight his point across. But Mello had a habit of ignoring what his brain said and giving it a go anyway. After a while, he scrunched his nose up and peered into my eyes, as if trying to search for the meaning of life. He looked so much like a girl, I couldn't help myself.

"Sorry Mello, but I think Mihael is too manly for a face like yours."

With that, he stood up out of the water and pointed to his jewels. "Does this not look manly to you!?" I stared for a moment, but the desperately angry look he was giving me didn't help his cause at all.

"If women had penises, Mello, you would be considered a goddess." I bit my lip to keep myself from laughing anymore than I already was. He made a move to step out and wail on me, then slipped and fell backwards, sloshing water everywhere. With a loud, "Fuck!," he hit his elbow on the edge of the tub, landing on his back in the water.

I echoed him and stepped over, bending down and waving my hand in front of his face. He grabbed it and bit down, right on the cuticle. It hurt like a _bitch_. I howled and he used this opportunity to kick me backwards with both feet, like some kind of giant, peach-coloured frog. With blonde hair.

I flew back and hit the wall, leaving quite a nasty dent. The landlord was going to be pissed, but it would be fine if we covered it with a giant poster of some naked chick at the beach. Sometimes Mello's ego pissed me off. So I stood up and caved to his wishes, rephrasing it so he wouldn't be able to escape.

"Alright. Mihael. You want me to call you Mihael, right? Well let me ask you something, _Mihael._ Do you want me to re-stitch your wounds, Mihael?"

_That's right._ If Mello was really bothered by admitting he was going to thank me, I'd play along. For his sake. Because I'm nothing without him. So I decided to play the role of the stupid lackey. Until _he_ caved for once. Because I knew he needed to admit it eventually. For his own sake.

He glared at me, in pain and pissed that I was throwing it back in his face. "Matt, stop that."

_Hell no._

"Stop what, _Mihael_? I'm only doing what you asked,_ Mihael_. Just like I've always done for you, _Mihael_."

He gritted his teeth, grinding them as if he was trying to grind them down to the sore, infected gums. His legs were now over the edge of the tub, his back against the wall opposite of me. So that we were facing each other. Waiting for the other to back down.

I smiled. His agitation just meant he was more likely to cave first.

"Lord Mihael, remember how you said you wouldn't make this easy on me? Well I'm not making it easy on you, either. You want me to scrub your feet, your highness?"

His eyes narrowed and he ground his teeth even more.

"I'm sure your highness would _rather _have me do everything for him! After all, that's all I ever fucking do around here, _Mihael_!"

"Don't you _ever_ use that tone when you say my real name. _Ever._ I swear to God, Matt, if you even _think_ about doing that again, I will fucking kill you."

His voice was like acid, but there was a bit of pain to it as well, which made me wish I hadn't thrown it right back at him. He coughed a bit and swallowed, spinning himself around so that he was sitting in the tub normally. I wasn't too sure, but I thought I saw his eyebrows quiver a bit. So, I walked over to the tub and bent down. My voice instantly softened, and I spoke so quietly I could hardly even hear my own voice.

"Mello. I'm sorry. I'll try my hardest not to make you get to this point anymore. It's just kind of hard, being… well, being friends with someone with too much pride. Sometimes I think you hide behind a wall too much… I…"

He closed his eyes and turned to me, opening them and giving a wink. "Well Matt. I won this round."

My mouth opened wide, and he snickered. "Psh. Pretty good performance, wouldn't you say? I hope you know that I'll always be the one in charge."

The first words that left my mouth were, 'Sneaky monkey'. The next thing I said was, "So all of that pretending to fumble with your words was just an act?"

He didn't say anything, just grabbed the washcloth and started cleaning between his toes. A sly grin crept into my expression, and I stood up. _Fine. Let Mello think he's won this round. At least I know he was really about to thank me._ "Anyways, Mihael, you want me to re-stitch those wounds?"

He stopped and stared at me, his face stunned, and then he smiled. "Say that again, Matt."

I cleared my throat. "Mello, do you want me to re-stitch those wounds?" His face dropped, and I 'corrected' myself. "… Sorry. _Mihael_, do you want me to re-stitch those wounds?" He eased himself lower into the water and smiled, asking me to say it again. I just rolled my eyes. I was in no mood for his childish antics. Honestly, he could sometimes be as childish as Near. _Not lying- I swear._ Once when we were little, I had accidentally called Near Clyde. Clyde, out of all things! For an entire week, he kept telling Roger that his name was apparently Clyde. Of course, both of us would laugh and Mello would shove Near into a wall, grabbing me by the collar and dragging me off.

I swallowed a bit. It was actually quite sad, now that I thought about it. Mello had been the one keeping the distance between himself and Near. Near had only ever tried to befriend us, but, of course, Mello wouldn't allow it. Perfection was _not_ allowed to engage in friendly banter with anything below par. _I wonder if he's hiding the fact that he has low self-esteem… After all, he's always told me that he wasn't up to Near's standards of perfection…_

"-att."

I snapped out of my reverie and looked at Mello. He was glaring, tapping his foot against the end of the tub, arms crossed over his chest. Apparently, I had forgotten he wanted me to call him Mihael again. "Uh… Mihael-"

"Forget that, dumbass. Now are you going to re-stitch these or not? Or are we just going to allow them to open wide up and let Hell take over?"

I bit my lip, keeping myself from telling him to fuck off. "No. Of course not, Mel. I'll get those stitched up after we get you dried off." As I smoothed my hair back and rinsed the shampoo from my hair and out of my eyes, I heard Mello shift in the tub.

"Hell, whoever said we? I'll be drying myself off, thank you."

I shrugged. "Want me to wash your hair?"

He shook his head. "Just hand me the bottle of shampoo."

------------------------

Mello was now fully clothed, sitting on our busted-ass couch, a towel lying over his shoulders. I walked in with a bottle of tequila and sat it on the glass table-top. _Ex-_glass table-top. It had a large piece of thick cardboard over it, after Mello had gotten pissy about everything one day and threw a chair into it. Of course, I was the one who had to pick up the glass.

I sunk into the couch next to Mello, grabbing the towel and messing his hair with it rather roughly. He winced a bit and pushed me away. "Quit it." I laughed and stood up again, forgetting that I had left the sewing kit in the bathroom. From last time.

However, that had been hell, and there was no way I'd get the mirror covered in bloody handprints like last time. It looked like a scene out of Hostel III. However, since there would be less blood this time around, I figured we could just do it in the comfort of the 'living room'.

"You know you enjoy getting pushed around every now and then, Mello."

As I nonchalantly entered the kitchen, I took a side-glance and noted that Mello was grinning to himself. _Hell yes. Another point for Mattie-boy._ I grabbed the sewing kit and headed out of the kitchen.

------------------------

Matt came back into the room, and Mello stopped grinning. Sure, Matt knew him well enough, but did that mean he'd show him he was right that easily? Hell no. And after that near-win in the bathroom? No fucking way.

Although he had enjoyed hearing that voice soften, and how Matt had called him Mihael. It sounded perfect when Matt said it- Mihael. Bang. It was short and sweet. Just like that. Although, it made him remember things he'd rather forget. And the look in Matt's eyes as he began taunting him with that word on his lips with such disdain?

It almost made him start crying! Like some kind of fucking girl. Well no fucking way. He was stronger than that, dammit! Stronger than Near. Than Kira, even! Sure he had to fuck countless thugs in the mafia to reach that point- that glorious point when he had the strongest leader's head in his hands. That glorious moment when he ripped into his throat with a knife. All for the sake of revenge.

All for the sake of hiding. Hiding how he really was.

And here was Matt, trying his hardest. And Mello was treating him like shit. _He so deserves better than me. But what can I do alone? I'm nothing without Matt. I'd be six feet under if it weren't for him. That's right. I'll say it in my head all I want. _

_Without Matt, I'm nothing. Nothing! Absolutely fucking nothing! Up a creek without a paddle! _

It was then that he noticed the comfortable shadow looming over him. "Mel, I'm gonna need the keys to the car."

Instead of just asking, Mello spat at him. "What the hell for?"

Matt flinched. Visibly. And Mello took some solace in this fact. Maybe Matt would realize just how useless it was to help him. Everyone he got close to died. But no, not Matt. Anyone but Matt. If there were anyone Mello didn't want to bring with him to hell, it would be Matt. Even if he couldn't live without the redheaded gamer.

"I left the lidocaine syringes in the car… In the trunk…"

Mello sat up. "The trunk?! What are they doing there!?!" He resisted the urge to smack the gamer, instead taking his anger out on the towel, pulling on both ends until it nearly ripped in half.

Matt sighed. "Well…"

Mello stormed over to the door. "You moron! Do you have any idea how fragile those are! We're in L.A! If those things get too hot they'll be ruined!"

Matt grinned sheepishly. "Well yeah… but I had to put them in the car because-"

Mello turned and glared at him, sighed. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just really pissed off because my face hurts. Go get them out of the car." Matt stood up, smiling a little bit, and walked out the door. Mello watched him go and slumped onto the couch, bending his head and resting his elbows on his knees, holding his head up. "Don't go taking it out on him," he muttered.

_I don't mean to act this way, but every time I try to say how I appreciate his help, my fucking mouth ruins it. But that's okay, because I don't deserve him. Don't deserve his care, or even his fucking love. It'd be better off if he didn't love me. If he loved those blonde sluts on his wall more than me. Because what can I say?_

_I love that bastard too. But there's no way in hell I'll ever admit it, and Matt deserves better than that._

------------------------

I knew Mello was not much to look at in his current condition. His ear was infected, and fluid was oozing out of the wound that had opened up where the stitches popped out. However, thank God that Mello had been wearing that gas mask. True, he wouldn't have had shattered glass all along the rim of his eye tearing his face apart, but it protected the rest of his face- mainly his lips.

The sheer impact of the blast had split the skin along his neck and shoulder, then flames had poured forth, leaving deep, red burns along the muscle. They weren't as bad as the ear, though. That damn ear was downright sickening to look at. The blast had ripped a bit of the cartilage apart and it was going to take forever to get that to heal, simply because the stitches weren't strong enough to keep it together. And now that it was infected, I couldn't seal it up until the wound was sterilized and cleaned of any dirt.

_Maybe if I double up the amount of thread… or I can go to the nearest veterinarian office and get a roll of wire. It's malleable enough to get through and hold. That's what it's used for anyways- connecting tissues together that require stronger thread than the regular stuff. Besides, aside from the dental assistant, that veterinarian is the only other blonde I know who's easy. Yes, blonde. Damn straight I'm still picky. And dentists don't have surgical wire, only lidocaine and novacaine. And dental tools. So yes, I'll have to go talk to her- what's her name again? Cindy? Carol? Why can't I remember her name? I slept with her at least a month ago. _

"_Matt._ Let's get this over with."

I frowned. "Mello, I think I need to go sleep with that one girl at the vet." His breathing hitched, and he stared up at me for a moment, then quirked an eyebrow, sneering at me.

"What, you'd rather sleep with some easy skank than keep your old buddy alive?"

"She's a veterinarian. She'll have surgical wire. That stuff should hold your ear together. That way it won't open back up and get infected." I looked for some kind of nod of approval, but he just stared at me. It was weird. I was practically on top of him, talking about going to go sleep with some skank at the vet's office. In any other situation, I'd be asking_ him_ to sleep with me, but that was not the case.

"Hell no. Just double up the thread and sew my face together extra tight. You don't have to go sleep with some skank just to keep my ear from getting infected again. I'm hardly worth the pleasure."

Surprisingly, he didn't look angry. Only stunned. So I just shrugged. "Alright then. I'll see what I can do. Promise not to bitch again?"

He growled. "Yeah. Now just get it over with, already." His eyes rolled towards the direction of the tequila bottle. "Don't tell me you're going to sew me up while you're drunk…"

I grabbed the bottle and a pair of tweezers. "Of course not. This is to clean your face. I can't sew that ear up with an infection that bad growing inside of it." Mello's face paled, and he motioned towards the tweezers.

"Why are you getting the tweezers so soon?"

"To pull out the stitches I used to sew your ear up the first time. Now stop acting like a frightened animal and suck it up."

He tried to reach for the bottle in my hands, but I kept it out of his reach.

"Matt, what are you doing!? Let me take a few swigs of that before you go messing with my ear!"

"I can't do that, Mello. It might interact with the lidocaine and make your heart stop. Just grin and bear it."

"Grin and bear it!? Oh, that's easy for you to say! You haven't had to sit through an hour of searing pain as your best friend pulls thread through the muscles of your face and the cartilage in your ear!"

I put two fingers over his mouth to shut him up. Surprisingly, he became quiet. I was having that effect on him lately. "Mel, I'm not going to lie. It might hurt. A lot. But you know what? The first step in the healing process is pain. Deal with it."

He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Pursed his lips together to show he was pissed, but would go along with it anyway. As I leaned down with the tweezers, he managed to grumble, "After you clean this ear, give me the damn painkillers."

As if I was going to refuse him the pleasure of a few hours of painlessness.

------------------------

Mello gritted his teeth. "When will the damn things start working? It's bad enough you fucking jabbed it into my neck." I sighed.

"I thought you said no bitching."

Mello glared at me like a cranky child. "That should work for my ear. What about my face?" _There you go, avoiding the topic..._

I pulled out another syringe. "_This_ will be going into your face."

Mello rolled his eyes as I stuck the needle in, mumbling, "It's going to sting a little at first." He scowled and ground his teeth as I pushed down, injecting the lidocaine into his system. "I'm aware," he managed to spit out through clenched teeth.

An hour later, I was finished with the stitching. "Now then. Do you feel any better?"

Mello was the picture of discomfort. No painkillers in the world could stop him from feeling the needle go in and out, stitching his skin together. I knew this. The only difference was it wasn't stinging like a bitch. He nodded a bit, eyes closed tightly. I hovered there for a while, staring at Mello's face, before wiping at the fluid still lingering on his cheek.

He relaxed. "Well, do you think they're gonna hold now?"

I nodded. "Yeh. I tried to tighten it harder this time. And I doubled up the thread in the ear, like you suggested." _Even though I had been thinking it, I'll just go ahead and give him that satisfaction._

Mello sighed, opening his eyes momentarily to look back at me, his eyes clearly showing all the thanks I needed to feel accomplished today. "Good. I still feel a bit feverish, though."

I wasn't sure if he was hinting at something, so I stood up, glancing down at him. "Do you want any ice?" Mello shook his head and closed his eyes again.

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna rest a while. You can have the bed tonight."

I grinned. "Yeah, I deserve it today."

Mello opened one eye to see the look on my face as he grinned. "Yeah, you do. Go get me some chocolate."

"Hey! That's unfair! After all my hard work keeping you from being miserable today, I deserve a little bit of a reward! Such as… oh, say… not ordering me around for a while!!"

He shut his eye again, smirking to himself. "Well, you aren't eating any of my chocolate. You'll break out in hives."

I sighed. I hated being allergic to chocolate, sometimes. Mello motioned at me with his finger. "Come here."

"Why?"

"Because I'm asking you to, now do it." I bent over, unsure of what he wanted. Mello's eyes opened and he frowned. "Kuh, closer." He grabbed my shirt and pulled me down so our noses touched.

"Mello, what are you doing?"

Mello looked up at me, considering something, before bringing his other arm up and resting it on my head. My eyes narrowed, suspicious. Knowing Mello, he'd most likely bash his forehead into mine and start laughing. "What are you-"

Mello sat up, crushing our lips together, pushing on my head enough so I couldn't jerk away all of a sudden- which I was about to do. My cheeks turned scarlet as he slipped his tongue into my mouth, running it along my soft palate. I remembered tasting chocolate back at Wammy's House. Mello had offered me a piece, but a few minutes after I swallowed it, I started sweating and threw up, hives creeping up my chest and neck. He had laughed at me, saying I'd never know how good chocolate really tasted. I could taste chocolate now, but since he hadn't eaten any in the past hour, none of it remained to really make me sick. It was the best taste in the world, and made me feel even more relaxed than my smokes did. After a moment he pulled away. "Good job, Matt." I stumbled into the kitchen, my heart beating fast and my cheeks throbbing with heat, and grabbed a bar of chocolate from the cupboard to bring it back to him.

_Hell, if that's what chocolate really tastes like, I don't think I'd mind vomiting afterwards. _


	9. Little Victories

_-googly eyes-_

_Furvacatta sent me a lovely review, saying she (I'm assuming she's female.) wanted to read a flashback of Mello as a stripper really, really badly. And then she asked if that was weird._

_-giggle- Anyways, she made me suddenly want to write it! (I bet she's a sneaky monkey and wrote that on purpose.) _

_So, the flashback in this chapter is for her. Because she wanted to read Mello acting as a stripper._

_I'm unsexy, so this might sound awkward and really stupid, but I still tried, dammit!_

_By the way, all of this stuff on organized crime I pretty much learned by watching a documentary one day two weeks ago on the Italian mafia in New York City. The "Dapper Don" is John Gotti, who killed the highly revered Paul Castellano and made a name for himself. He came from one of the poorer families, and people respected him because he was one of the little guys, sticking it to the richer families and rising to the top position. In a lot of ways he's exactly like Mello. He had a fierce temper and enjoyed talking big and he was incredibly showy. Heh heh. But he's one of the "Five Families", on the East coast. In New York City. _

_The Los Angeles syndicates are considered weaker, but I figure, since Kira is killing off so many people, they'd soon shoot to the top of the mafia food chain. In the Death Note world, that is. (I'm glad I get to use this information in a fanfic. I was afraid it'd go to waste.)_

_Oh, and I was researching more on the Los Angeles syndicates and listen to this:_

"_The Los Angeles family continues to keep close ties with German organized crime syndicates in Southern California, which operate mainly in Orange County and San Diego." (wikipedia)_

_See that? German. Mello. Perfect. _

_Also, the current leader in charge of the Los Angeles crime syndicate is Paul Milano. I just used the name Paul in here. I snagged a random name from the syndicate for the leader. I figure I shouldn't really type some real person into a fictional story. In fictional situations. Especially since Mello ends up killing the Boss. And Paul Milano is not dead. That I know of._

_- Cake-chan_

_P.S. Mello has a debut in first person. Because it sounds better this way._

* * *

I remember dancing for women- and countless men- at some club down in London. I remember dancing for five hours straight, every night starting at nine 'o clock, six days out of the week. I had Saturdays off, so I could hopefully get up and go to Sunday Mass the next morning. I was being paid good money- after all, I was underage and they wanted to make sure I never 'tattled'. As if. 

Soon I worked up enough money to get a plane ticket to Los Angeles. I was formulating a plan, but how on earth was I going to get enough manpower- and money, for that matter- when I could hardly even earn decent money for clothes? This was Los Angeles. They had a pretty big gay community, with plenty of strip clubs for me to earn money.

But how could I get the manpower?

Running into the mafia was just a fluke. I just so happened to catch the eye of one of the biggest crime bosses in the area. Hell, he even had connections to Italy. I know, it was more of a New York thing, right? Not true. By the year 2003, Kira had wiped off most of the crime on the entire east coast. Everything shifted to the central part of the United States. Where there were more deserts and less watchful eyes.

He made deals with another syndicate in Nevada. He was one of the untouchables. Not even Kira could touch him. He had a big following and many people respected him. Not only was he heavily guarded, but he was just what I needed.

If I killed him, I'd shoot myself up into the ranks faster than The Dapper Don himself. Then I'd have all the money and power I'd need to beat Near.

So, like I said, running into the mafia was a fluke. It first started when I began working at a gaybar, as a stripper and as a prostitute.

----------------------------

The music was pumping and I clicked my heels together for a while. Keeping my eyes on anyone that seemed easy. I wasn't on stage yet, but soon I would be. I glanced over the audience.

A bunch of drunks, looking for a quick score. They'd be the easiest. And if I liquored them up enough, I wouldn't even have to sleep with them to steal their wallets.

There was a man who looked down on his luck, drinking and drowning his sorrows in sleazes. No fucking way. I didn't do sob cases. They wound up getting clingy. I knew this, it had happened to me a month ago. The damn guy was finally hit by a car. Luckily.

A man walked in, and I could tell by the way he carried himself that he had no qualms in anything he did. This guy was interesting… He looked tough, and shortly afterwards, a few big guys came in and sat at two different tables, surrounding where the first guy had sat. I knew this formation. It was a typical bodyguard formation. Anyone who came near him was within their reach. This guy was important. He dressed nice, too.

Presently, another man came in. He looked more frail, and he hurried in, bowing his head a bit as if apologizing too many times, to sit next to his boss. Soon, the Boss was surrounded by about six thugs. They weren't looking at the strippers. They looked uncomfortable. So the boss was gay and they felt uncomfortable being here? I caught his eye and when I stared directly into those steely-grey eyes, I could feel the adrenaline rushing into my veins.

Him. He was my target. That decided it. If I took his place, I'd have manpower.

A felt an arm on my shoulder and pushed my 'co-worker' away. "Alright. I get it."

I grinned to myself and walked up to the stage. The music soon sped up, then slowed down until it was a pulsating rhythm. My music. This would be easy. As I walked out on stage, I kept my eyes firmly on the Boss. Stepping in time with the music, stopping at the pole and resting my back on it. I bent down to stretch my back and arms. Planting my arms firmly on the ground, I glanced over at him. He took a sip of his drink and I pulled myself back up. Popped my head to the side a few times and grabbed the pole. And this was where I felt free.

Here, I could take out my anger on everything. Near was perfect and I was just second place. Here I was, forced to be a sleaze just to earn something for dinner. My parents disowned me at an early age because I wasn't good enough. I was never good enough. I had a lot to be angry at.

I fell to my knees, hard, and my head tilted back. I slowly removed the vest I was wearing and stood up, rolling my shoulders a bit and leaning onto the pole; sliding down it again, twirling myself back up so that I had enough momentum to jump off the stage. I landed with a stomp, imagining myself stomping on Near's frail little bones.

Hell, when I did a striptease, I did it pissed.

Which was why I was so talented at it. I was wild and untamable. Men went crazy over it. Women wanted to be punished. I could have cared less. Right now it was just me, my anger, and the Boss.

I did a little sashay, circling my hips a bit in a grind. As I moved forward towards him, I could see his bodyguards getting antsy. I stopped hearing the music as it was replaced by only the loud thumping of my heart beat and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. It was now or never.

I put my hands flat on my abdomen- where a woman's ovaries would be, but since I was a man, I was only touching my bony hips- and whipped my head from side to side as my hips popped with it. It felt like I was going a mile a minute, but apparently this was going fairly slow. I started unbuckling my belt, hands dexterously unhooking the buttons of my pants. Immediately, the music ended and I stood there, in the middle of a bunch of thugs, staring directly at their boss, giving a wink in his direction.

He didn't look pleased at all. Probably because I took too much time dancing towards where he was and less time stripping. I heard the music change again, and my 'co-worker' got up on stage and began to strip. However, the Boss wasn't looking at him. He was looking at me. With a wave of his hand, all but his two main bodyguards got up and left. Even that frail under boss had left. He motioned at me with his finger, and I walked over as confidently as I could.

"What's your name?"

His voice was raspy, with age and the onset of what sounded like one hell of a tumor in his lung, and I could see him holding a cigar, unlit. I could tell he wanted to light it so badly. I cocked a brow at him. "You know smoking is prohibited in the building. This is Los Angeles."

"I'm aware of that. Now I'd like to know your name."

He patted the chair next to him, and I sat down, legs spread, grabbing his drink and taking a big drink. Vodka. "They call me Mello."

He chuckled. "And your real name?"

I smiled and leaned towards his ear, whispering, "It's going to take more drinks than that." As I pulled away, I made sure to nip his ear. They all seemed to like this. He, however, did not, as I quickly learned when his open palm collided with my face.

"I like your attitude, kid, but you don't know who you're fucking with."

He stood up, sloshing his glass of vodka into my face, motioning to his bodyguards to leave. I sat there, and the vodka stung almost as much as the defeat. As I looked up at them, I saw one of his bodyguards purse his lips together in a kiss. He blew me a kiss and I smiled a bit.

Well then. I'd just have to go about it in some other way. And his bodyguard gave me that opportunity.

----------------------------

I had to be nonchalant in how I approached the subject. If I seemed too interested, they'd know something was up. If I was too subtle, they'd suspect I had something planned and I wouldn't be able to keep them off my ass.

I rolled over onto the bodyguard. His name was Paul. What a name. My bangs were sticking to my forehead. All the sweat was making the sheets stick to my back and my chest. I sat up and positioned myself on his chest. He looked up at me and yawned. He was tired. I had made sure of that. First with the aspirin in his beer. Second with the rough sex.

I bent down and breathed into his neck. I nipped his ear- which he did enjoy- and cleared my throat. "Do you enjoy going with your boss?"

He coughed and put a hand to his forehead. "What do you mean?"

"If you weren't his bodyguard, you wouldn't have been able to fuck me, right?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"You wouldn't have walked in at that moment. Now give me the money you owe me."

He flipped me over so he was dominant. "Just one more screw." I glared at him and kneed him in the groin.

"It's two thousand tonight. The night is over, so give me my money."

He took a while to recover, and I stood up, wrapping the sheets around me and going to my drawers. I opened one, and pulled out the gun I had bought after that clingy bastard who was down on his luck- you know the one. The one that got hit by a car.

He cursed at me.

"Do you have any idea who you're fucking with? Two thousand a night!? It was cheaper last week!"

As he rose up to raise his fists, his head lifted to where he could see the barrel of my gun, aimed directly between his eyes. "Fuck."

I grinned, sorely. "Do _you_ know who you're fucking with? You never paid me last week. That's why it's doubled."

He put his clothes on and gave me the money, then split. I put the gun away, knowing he'd be back next week.

It was through him that I learned of his boss's schedule. He had a loud mouth, and it never closed. I suppose it was a fluke that he leaked so much information to me. However, I had my own part to play in that, since I was able to coax anything out of him. He wasn't getting paid nearly enough that he felt he deserved. Apparently my target was a real bastard.

Eventually, I told Paul my plan. He was drunk of course, but the next morning he had kissed me before he left. Soon, I'd have that fucker's head in my hands and I'd have everything I'd need to get on equal footing with Near. The very next week, Paul said they'd shot his brother for making a mistake. From that point on, he never failed to mention he was on my side.

Now that Paul had my back, it made things a bit easier. I still kept up my stripper job. I was still a cheap prostitute. But get this- Paul bought me things. Nice things. Leather and chains. Nice shoes and feathered coats. Yeah, I had him wrapped around my finger.

The frail under boss was the next to go. He'd been getting tired of being pushed around. Dom- which I later learned was the Boss's real name- had been taking his anger out on his under boss ever since he became the leader. The under boss's name was Cameron. I happened to run into Cameron on the street. He took one look at me and said, "You're the guy Dom's been eyeing lately."

Of course, I had asked who Dom was. He looked around, before getting me alone- and himself- so that he could tell me. I grinned and asked him if he had been talking to Paul lately. Of course he hadn't. Cameron was a fucking pussy.

So I seduced Cameron, as I had Paul. I gave him blowjobs and fucked around with him. It was too easy. Of course, if the Boss was gay, he'd end up hiring gay henchmen, right? Wrong. The second bodyguard was straight, but, then again, I wasn't just sleeping with men.

I had been fucking a woman who happened to watch me at my other job- a club for women. I treated her like a gentleman, and the sex was good. She was easily manipulated, and I manipulated her to seduce the other bodyguard. Soon, I had arranged her to ask him to take her out for dinner one night. With him out of the way, and with Paul and Cameron on my side, I was able to get close to Dom.

I let him have his way with me. As much as I hated it, he was the one who refused to take any lip, and so I had to submit myself to him. It started out innocent enough. He wanted to come by and watch me perform as his other bodyguard was out on a date. Cameron feigned sickness and went to the bathroom.

I was stripping for him, and when I was done, he called me over to his table.

"You're an angry person, aren't you, Mello?"

I winked at him. "I happen to think we're all angry on the inside."

Paul had warned me he was a sadist, but I had no idea what I was in for. When he fucked me, I felt sick. He treated me as if I was his fucking toy. Like Near. It was like I was fucking Near. It sickened me, but this just turned him on even more.

It was horrendous, I can't even begin to describe it.

However, it was all worth it the next morning, when I had handcuffed him to the bed as he slept. He was a drinker, and throughout the night, he was drinking sleeping pills dissolved in vodka. It was a dangerous mixture, and he fell unconscious. It took me an hour to nurse my wounds. A fucking hour of cleaning cuts and stab wounds. That's right. He had stabbed me all over. In my thighs, in my arms. He even got me once in the chest. It wasn't lethal, but it bled for quite a while and I still had a scar, because the explosion had managed to burn the side of my chest opposite of the fucking thing.

I was sore, but I managed to handcuff him to the bed, and when he woke up, he was pissed. I took the knife he had used on me and jammed it into his throat. Blood came gushing out, but it wasn't serious- only the trachea. I worked it side to side, so it severed the major arteries, and the blood really started pouring. He was just like Near. Taunting me and toying with me. And I wasn't good enough- never good enough. Not now, not ever.

As he gurgled and died, I imagined he _was_ Near, dying in front of my eyes. I relished the thought of that white little fuck turning red with blood. Relished the thought of his precious puzzles growing soggy in his own blood until they finally melted and became like mush. His little hand prints on the ground as he flailed to keep from dying. Pressing into the puddle of his own blood, making little white markings as the floor showed through, in that linoleum prison of an orphanage.

By the time I was done, I was covered head to foot in his blood. It took two hours in the shower to get it all off. I didn't even bother to clean up the room. I just left with a sack in my suitcase. A sack containing his head.

The entire syndicate got together after his death, and a weaker one had come out of Las Vegas, their leader trying to take his place. That was Rod. Yes. The fucker who worked with me before the explosion. Paul took me to the meeting and I had thrown Dom's head into the center of the room.

"Don't any of you fucking dare take my rightful place."

From that point on, I didn't have to fuck anyone to earn enough money to get by. I never had to pull my gun out at fuckers who refused to pay. Paul did that for me, until Kira killed him after he got arrested for drunk driving. _Drunk driving._

----------------------------

Mello was staring off into space again. He did that quite often, but this time he was staring at a scar on the right side of his chest. I had noticed it before, but I never brought it up. He was in the mafia. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had gotten it in a fight. But it was unnerving. He just sat there, vest open, staring at it in the mirror. After a while, I walked over to him. I leaned over him, waving a hand in front of his face, and he looked up at me. His face was expressionless. That was why it was unnerving. Because he was so blank. It was scary, seeing him blank. I smiled a bit, taking a drag from my cigarette.

"What are you looking at, Mel?"

He coughed, choking back tears, before smiling. Before looking away and closing his vest, smiling at the wall.

"What little victories I've had."

He grabbed the cigarette from my mouth and dropped it to the floor, crushing it under his heel.


	10. Need

_Ahem, instead of some big long thing, I'll just tell you guys a story in my author's note and let you all make your own interpretations of it._

_When me and my brother still went to a private school, I was still outgoing- to the point that people were annoyed and felt threatened by how rambunctious I was. (Oh yeah, there's no way I'm like that now.) Every October we would have a fall auction. We met these two siblings one day, and we all won fish at the ring toss game they had. _

_Well, it was extremely hot outside, because it's _always_ hot here, so we all snuck inside the Sanctuary. There was a little table with stacks upon stacks of magazines on the Bible and the church and so forth underneath it. Well, one of the siblings we met placed their fish on the table, forgetting that their rubber band around the bag had fallen off. The water spilled everywhere, and the goldfish fell behind the stacks of papers underneath the table. For about 10 seconds, we all just stared at the bag, unsure of what to do. My brother didn't say much, and he just looked at the bag. The two siblings were sad, because they didn't have a pet. Well, eventually they said that they couldn't save the fish. It was dead. Because I was rash and completely neurotic, I pushed the stacks away from the wall, letting them get scattered all over the floor, to find the fish flopping on the ground rather weakly. I grabbed the other sibling's bag and opened it, plopping the fish-out-of-water into the bag and closed it off with a rubber band. _

_By the end of the day, the shock that the first fish felt had finally killed it, and the fish whose bag it was placed was dying from lack of space for it to swim around in. At the end of the auction, the two siblings managed to get their hands on a hedgehog, leaving the near-dead (and dead) fish by the church. _

_I felt sort of sad when they left with their hedgehog, ignoring the fish that they were wanting to keep as pets just earlier that day, but at the same time I can totally see where they were coming from; after all, they're just fish. To this day, I still don't know how I should feel about the situation. _

_Hm. It is a puzzlement._

_- Cake-chan_

* * *

Mello. His name was everywhere and I couldn't find a moment's peace to clear my head. Echoing in my head, coursing through my veins. He was in every heart beat, every breath and moan. He dipped down at an angle, hitting that spot _just_ right, so I felt like I was going crazy. I raked my fingers across his back, over the coarse ridges on the left side. 

Mello always did have a habit of knowing just what would set me off. So it was no surprise that sex was no different.

Presently, his momentum sped up, and he took this moment to pull his head up and take a much needed breath, whipping his head to the side, droplets of sweat flying off the tips of matted hair, soaked. Then, he went back to my mouth, so that every part of me was being penetrated. I felt like I was going to suffocate, as I reached the height of ecstasy.

Of course, as I reached nirvana, the alarm clock went off and ruined it.

"Matt, get up and make me some breakfast."

I felt tempted to reply, 'First you fuck my brains out, then you ask for breakfast. You're turning into all my exes.', but I knew better than that and stood up.

"Will you at least let me take a shower?"

"What, did you have another wet dream, Matt?"

"Something like that." I scratched my head, yawning a bit. "Although I wouldn't call it wet…"

He sneered and rolled his eyes, but let me have my shower all the same. I took a cold shower. Not like it helped at _all_.

That was _the_ most vivid dream I'd had in a long time. It was strange how I knew what it felt like to rake my fingers over that scar. Perhaps it was the presence of said scar that made it feel so fucking _real._ Up until now, he'd never had the scar in any of my dreams. Now it seemed as if all the other times were fake.

I stopped musing and though of Mr. Wammy and Roger sitting in a bathtub, playing with floating ships and rubber ducks.

There. That made my boner go away.

The thought never failed me. Not like my cold showers.

I stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel by the curtain and drying my hair off first.

"You were thinking of Mr. Wammy and Roger in the tub again, weren't you?"

I nearly jumped out of my skin, pulling the towel over my lower regions so fast I almost gave myself a bald spot. Right above the ear.

"Jesus _Christ_, Mello!!"

He was sitting in the sink, letting his feet dangle over the rim. He looked pleased with himself, and I frowned, wrapping the towel around my waist. He pumped his legs a few times, before jumping up and leaning towards me in that 'I know everything' sort of way.

"You know, you should just think of Near next time. It never fails. I should know, since it works for me." He placed a gloved hand over his chest rather professionally. I just stared at him blankly.

"Is that before or after you get a boner?"

He kicked me in the ass and I hit the door, chuckling to myself.

"After it, dumbass! That punk ass, pasty white fuck is the bane of sexy! You think I'd _enjoy_ seeing him naked- well, maybe I would, but only to laugh at his tiny pecker!"

He laughed to himself and I shrugged.

"It might work for you, but it doesn't work on me."

His upper lip and lower eyelids twitched. "What, so you don't think he's an ugly little gremlin? Is that it? It's because he's so Goddamn _perfect_, isn't it!?" He stared at me venomously, daring me to answer him. I waved a hand in his face, catching the tip of his nose. He used to love that as a kid. Instead, he opened the door and stomped out, making sure to tread extra hard on my bare feet.

I winced and was glad he hated wearing cleats. When I had pulled a pair of boxers on, I walked into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I discovered we were nearly out of everything. All that was left were a few eggs in the tray, some cheese and a cup or two of milk, one sweet red pepper and a handful of cherries.

Enough to make one sweet omelet.

Now, I'm not gonna lie. I was a pretty good cook. If there was one thing I liked more than eating a home-cooked meal, it was preparing one. Sure, half the time I just cooked up some ramen, but every once in a while I wanted nothing more than to just but a bunch of ingredients and mix it into something great.

Like my entire life, it seemed, my talents went to the benefit of Mello. A sweet omelet was a dish I created to suit Mello's tastes. Now, he couldn't stomach chocolate in the morning. He needed protein and something full of nutrients to give him the energy to make it through the day without feeling drowsy in the next hour.

So, I created something with egg, sweet bell peppers and cherries. Cheese was optional, but Mello liked putting it on there. I couldn't figure out why, since the dish itself tasted like a sweet cheese on its own.

The first time I whipped it up for him, he inhaled it. It appealed to both his stomach and his sweet tooth, without biting him in the ass later.

"Hey Mello, we have enough to make a sweet omelet. How does that sound?"

He didn't say anything- just sat there, brooding. I walked in to lean over him, ass against the wall. "Mel, if it's about that whole Near thing, I'm sorry. I don't feel either way about the guy. He simply exists."

After a while, he looked up at me, his nose scrunched up. Scrutinizing my apology. "…Promise?"

I gave him a simple nod. "How's about we go grocery shopping today and I cook something for dinner tonight? Would you like that?"

He nodded, giving me the brightest smile I had seen since we were kids. That's what he looked like right now- save for the scar, he looked just like the Mello from back then. It warmed my heart, to say the least. Mello had that effect on me, especially when his smiles were as big and innocent as they were back at Wammy's House.

When I was done and the omelet had cooled, he inhaled it again. And, just like the first time he tried it, he burned his tongue when he reached the center.

---------------------

"I don't know, Mello. Are you more in the mood for something Italian, or…"

I sighed and glanced up. Honestly, it was like talking to a brick wall sometimes. Ever since that… kiss… Mello had been lost in thought. It would have made me happy, had it not been pissing me off.

"Mello?"

He blinked, looking back at me. "What?"

"Dinner. What are you craving?"

"Near."

"Near? Jesus, Mel. Cannibalism's taboo, even for you, ya know…"

"No. He has my picture."

I leaned against the cart, running my hand through my hair, pulling it up and letting it fall back down, tickling my forehead. He was on the topic of Near again. I swore, sometimes he thought more about that bugger than he did me. "We can talk about it over dinner, alright? I just wanna know what you want first."

He glared, his voice rising to the point that other people started staring. "I want my damn picture back! I'm not…" He choked a bit, his voice suddenly becoming quiet. "I'm not safe, Matt."

I put an arm around his shoulder and patted him on the back. Lowered my voice so no one else could hear what we were talking about now. "Mello, come on. Can't we at least discuss this in private? I doubt you want all the people in the supermarket to know that we disagree with Kira's ideals. Not to mention that, but that we're after a picture. People will begin to think we're crazy."

He stepped towards me, putting his head in the crook of my neck, just barely standing far enough away so that our chests weren't touching. He wrapped his arms around himself and took a deep breath. He was at another breaking point. The fever must've been making him delirious, since he'd reached the breaking point quite a few times in the past week.

"But we are crazy, Matt. And I want to go home. Just… Just take me home."

I gave a shy smile and pushed him away. "Not that easily, Mel. We came here for groceries, and we sure as hell aren't leaving without any."

He nodded, sadly, before glancing at the vegetables beside us. I still wasn't sure whether it was all an act. He had been acting extremely different lately. More girly. He grabbed a bundle of parsley and dumped it in the cart, without even bothering to put it in a bag. His voice became aggressive again, and he looked up at me with demanding eyes.

"I want Italian. Wine, candles, salad- the whole spiel." Was he even using that word right? I shrugged and hopped to it. There was no sense in wasting his time, now that he seemed to be out of whatever funk he'd been in for the entire morning.

"I feel like being extravagant, Matt."

I smiled and grabbed a head of lettuce, stuffing it into a bag and putting it in the cart. "That's just like you, Mello."

We finished the rest of the grocery shopping and the rest of the day went on as it usually did. I sat playing some sort of game, occasionally checking to make sure Mello hadn't choked on his chocolate again. Mello sat in the bathroom, eating chocolate and brooding.

When my stomach started growling, I paused and went to go check on Mello. However, when I stood, I discovered he was in the living room. Sitting on the bed, donning one of my shirts.

And my goddamn underwear.

"Mello."

He looked up, curling a lock of his hair behind his ear. So I can see his scar better.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He shrugged and went back to the window, consuming that chocolate like it was his last bar he'd ever eat. I was hungry, Mello was wearing my last clean pair of underwear and he wasn't answering me. What the fuck was his problem?? It was irritating me to no end that he was being so unresponsive.

"Why are you wearing my goddamn _underwear_!?"

Without looking away from the window, he pointed to the intersection below, pausing in his chocolaty treat, to speak. "I've been looking out this window for thirty minutes. About twenty-five minutes ago, a woman and a man walked up to the crosswalk. The man pushed the button, and the woman started yelling at him. The man didn't look mad at all, but when the light changed for them to move across the street, he crossed but she stayed behind. It's been about twelve minutes, but she's still standing there. I wonder, why did she get mad? Was it something her partner did, or is she just being fickle? For that matter, what will happen after this? Will he call her later and apologize? Will she call him? Did I just witness a man walking out on his wife or just a simple date gone wrong?"

I stared at him, too stunned for words. Mello never thought so deeply about pointless things like that. So obviously, something must've been bothering him a lot. A whole fucking lot. There had to be something he was trying to tell me.

"What are you getting at, Mel?"

He finished off the chocolate and curled up, elbows on his knees, head resting on his arm.

"Matt, am I fickle?"

"What kind of question is th-"

"If I told you to leave, would you?"

"Mel, you're freaking me out."

"If I were to get mad at you and you walked off, what do you think I would do? Would I follow you or stay behind?"

I thought about it for a while. Truthfully, I never wondered about it. For me, it was a steady constant. Mello would leave for months- years even- without ever trying to contact me, but he always came back. He always found his way back to me. But, he never left because I made him mad, or vice versa. Would he? Truly? Or would he-

"Neither, because I'd never walk off… No matter how mad you got at me."

"What if I got so mad that I told you to leave? Would you leave me then?"

For about two seconds my brain was a complete blank, and then I expelled air from my nose in a half sort of laughter. "Mello…" And then I stopped to think about it. _Oh god. Is he… Is he telling me to leave? What the hell is this shit?_ "You wouldn't do that. You need me, right? Who'll be there to pick up the pieces? To stitch your wounds back up?"

"There's always Near."

"No…" My voice suddenly rose, and I could tell Mello was caught by surprise, but I couldn't shake the thought that I saw a bit of amusement behind those eyes. "No fucking way! You hate him, Mello! Besides, you know he'd just use you! That's all he's ever done in the past!" I took a step back before turning around, placing my hands on my hips to take a moment to breathe.

"That's not true, Matt. Yes, I hate him, but you know as much as I do that he only ever wanted to be my friend. If I went to him and asked for his help, he would gladly give it."

"What's the point in telling me this? Jesus fucking Christ, Mello! What are you trying to get at?? Do you want me to leave!? Is that it!?"

He was quiet for a moment, staring into my eyes. He was fucking insane. There was no doubt about that. Honestly. As if he could actually manage to let Near help him without killing himself!

"Yes. That's what I want you to do, Matt."

The words hit me like a ton of bricks and it took a few seconds for my brain to process this request. _It hurts- it hurts so fucking much! I- I'm just not needed anymore. Not needed._ _He doesn't need me anymore. No. That's not it. He just doesn't want to need me anymore._ "Fine, but it's going to be you who leaves."

His eye twitched, obviously not expecting that response. I continued, and his expression changed into something more hurt than surprised; something more angry than hurt. "You want me to leave, right? Well do me a favor and leave for me. Leave like you always have, only don't come back this time!" He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.

I glanced at him sourly before stepping back towards him, reaching for my underwear. "And don't you dare leave with my favorite pair of boxers." He shot me this wry grin, edging farther away from my arm, and I knew he was antsy. Antsy about what I couldn't tell, but he obviously wanted to blow off steam. But so did I, and I wouldn't give up that easily.

"Mello. Don't you fucking dare. I swear to god, if you make me fight you for them, I'll throw you out that window."

His eyes widened into something more alarming- something more disturbingly crazy- and I felt the blood rush from my face. He stood in a squat and took a step backward, towards the window, and I knew everyone at that intersection could see Mello's ass covered only by my Legend of Zelda Triforce boxers. "Do it, Matt. Push me out the window."

"You're fucking crazy, Mello."

"I've got a scar to remind me of that fact every day. Now push me out the window. I _dare _you."

I bit my lip and grabbed his wrist, yanking him away from the window. He fell forward and collided with me, causing both of us to topple over. He landed sitting up on my belly, straddling me, looking dizzy. When I tried to sit up, he lowered his head to regain equilibrium and our heads collided.

It took us a few moments to get our heads together, until I sat up on my elbows, glaring at him. However, he was glaring right back at me, and since he was faster than I was, he spoke first. "You didn't push me."

"No-fucking-duh!"

"But… I told you to."

This was utterly ridiculous! Mello was acting so neurotic it wasn't even funny. I sat up and he toppled backward a bit, before grabbing my shoulders to keep himself upright. I was so freaked out by his behavior that I didn't even know how awkward we must've looked.

"Mello, you asked me to _push you out a window_. As loyal as I am, there are some things I won't do."

He stared at me for a long, long time, until he sighed. "I'm sorry. I'd rather have you toss me out a window then tell me to leave and never come back."

"You said it first. I never would have fucking said that if you hadn't told me to leave."

"Matt, you sound like you're twelve again."

"You fucking _look_ like a twelve year old again. Either that or something out of some pedo porn mag." He sneered at me and I realized what I said. "Look, it's not like I fucking look at them, but you look like some kind of child wearing a shirt that's too baggy and boxers with the Triforce on them."

"I don't own these boxers. You do."

"Then you look like Linda after she decided to raid my closet." His mouth dropped, and I nodded. "Hell yes. It happened a month after you left, and you should have seen the look on Near's face when he walked in on us." However, his expression went sour.

"She was twelve, Matt."

"Exactly. And you look just like her right now. Wearing the same bloody thing only a few sizes bigger."

"She must've been one ugly bitch if her face matched mine." _Setting yourself up again, Mel._

"I know. Anyone with a face like yours _would_ be easy."

He scoffed and I grinned at him, before he crashed his forehead into mine. "I meant _with_ the scar, dumbass!" I was knocked backward a bit and I rubbed the spot that I was sure would bruise.

"What makes you think I didn't mean that in the first place?"

He scowled and shifted his weight to one leg, then shifted it to the other.

"Mello. What the-"

I suddenly realized just how awkwardly placed we were, and Mello grinned maniacally upon seeing the look on my face. "You want to take that back or do you want me to test and see who's easier?"

"Okay, fine! The scar isn't really that bad! _Besides_, the scar on your back feels really nice under my fingers!" When he gave me a queer look, I realized I must've said something I wasn't supposed to again. He shook his head, as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing then looked back at me, squinting his eyes a bit as if I was possessed.

"Matt, you had a wet dream this morning, right? I think I remember you saying-"

"It wasn't exactly wet."

He snickered and I kicked myself mentally ten times. _This fucking motor mouth! Stupid memory! _He smiled to himself like he was feigning ignorance. Because he had already put two and two together. He was cautious about the subject at first, still acting as if he was unsure of what he was saying.

"Now, _who_ was the dream about?"

I placed a hand over my face, pulling it down until all the skin had been pulled on, then sighed. There would be no weaseling out of this one. No excuses.

"It was… It was about you, Mel. It's always been about you."

I lowered my head to sigh again, but he raised my head again, leaning in close, holding my temples to steady my head. He was smiling, but there was something soft. It was actually kind of scary seeing him get that soft in the eyes.

"Matt, say that again."

"It's always been about you."

"Now put my first name on the end of that."

_Oh, so he wants to be romantic and he can't instigate romance. Figures. Mello's the least sappy person I know. Aside from Near, but he doesn't do anything except sit in the corner and bug out his eyes when he sees even the slightest hint of affection. Oh. I guess he's finally deciding to at least start a relationship with me? Wait, what!? Holy crap. This isn't Linda or Carol or Jocie or Sally or Dorris or… or… the other seventeen. This is Mello. Fucking __**Mello**__. He's the fucking reason I breathe. What do I do? I'm so fucking nervous. Why the hell am I just staring at him like this? He's probably pissed that I'm this zoned out. Shit._

I leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, quickly, and when I pulled back I felt the blood rushing to my cheeks. "It's always been about you, Mihael."

He scooted closer so our chests were touching- finally touching- and I could feel his heart beat, but it was not steady as it should've been. He was leaning towards me, lips barely touching mine...  
...when both of our stomachs growled in unison.

I could even feel his lips brushing against mine as he whispered, "Let's continue this after dinner."

-------------------------------

Dinner went on in silence. Mello had poured the drinks and I was currently trying to cut the lasagna without having the fork slide off the bottom noodle, since I had gotten one of the edges near the rim and the noodle was baked a bit more than the center. I was stuffing my face, to say the least. It was more out of sheer embarrassment than eagerness to bed him. I really could have cared less if we continued after dinner. At least, that's what I told myself.

I had to act laid-back and casual about it, but for some reason I could not, feeling Mello's eyes on me the entire time. Finally, I took a drink of my wine. He coughed a bit, choking on his own and I glanced up.

"What's with you?"

Mello shook his head and coughed again. "Nothing. Some of the damn lasagna went down the wrong way." I shrugged and felt myself burying my face in my food again. It wasn't like me to be this shy, as I had long since gotten over myself in the shy, awkward days of childhood. But this was Mello. My childhood hero, my best friend and the reason I breathed, so I figured that it was alright to be nervous.

Mello was an honest, loyal person as well, but he was unpredictable, too. So unpredictable that at times I wondered if I really knew what was going on in his head. There was no telling what he would do. He had done things he wasn't proud of- what's not to say that adding me onto that list was one of his objectives?

"I didn't make it go down the wrong way."

He sneered at me a bit when I looked back up, jabbing his fork towards my face, catching me on the nose. I made a face and he made a face, then when both of us were making faces at the other, he burst out laughing. This was one of the reasons why I was nervous. I was fine with it being like this. I'd prefer it to stay like this- us two laughing every once in a while, facing the world just as we always had.

"Mel, you're so white trash right now."

"What?"

"Look at you. There's a candle-lit dinner, with wine and Italian, a Caesar salad, and a quiet evening- but look at what you're wearing. You're still in my boxers. I swear, I better get them back by the end of the night. That's my last clean pair."

He took a bite of the lasagna, putting the least amount of his lips on it as possible, to avoid it from burning them, too. "What makes you think I'm clean? What makes you think they'll be clean by the end of the night?"

I was right in the middle of another drink and by the end of his question I spewed it out onto my food. He burst out laughing; pointing at my food like it was the grossest thing ever. "Jesus, Mello! Could you not say that while I'm drinking!?"

"You should see your face. It's as red as a cherry."

"I'm serious! I'm seeing Jocie tomorrow and she said that I better be wearing those!"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Jocie? Who the fuck is Jocie? Why the hell are you seeing her?"

"Jocie's this woman I work with."

"You have a _job_?"

"Yes, I usually work weekends at really late hours- when you're sleeping."

"_Do_ tell."

"I'm a bartender. Jocie is this waitress I've been seeing for a good two months. She's really sexy, too. However, with _you_ being near dead, I haven't been able to spend time with her. Tomorrow's our anniversary of sorts. So I _need_ those boxers."

He sneered and stood up, taking his plate into the kitchen. "I'll clean up. Afterwards, we can _talk_."

I downed my glass of wine in one gulp. Oh boy. There was no telling how this night would end. I went to the living room and stretched, sitting on the couch. Thirty minutes later, Mello walked in and I was beginning to feel drowsy. Not just sleepy- drugged drowsy. What the-

He leaned down over my lap and crushed our lips together, trying to assume some sort of dominance. He was winning, and I started feeling my muscles respond slower. He pulled back and kissed my forehead, closing my eyelids with his gloved fingers. I started to wonder why he was suddenly wearing gloves, but everything went dark and the only thing I could feel was this warm sensation engulfing my entire being.

"Yes, I drugged your wine. Have fun with Jocie."

-------------------------------

The next morning, I woke up feeling groggy. I wasn't on the couch, but rather, in the bed. It took a while to figure out what was going on, but I sat up and rubbed my head. I looked around for any sign of Mello. No boots, the door to the bathroom was open, I couldn't hear the rustle of the newspaper in the kitchen or the sound of the news from the television. The throbbing in my head lessened and I stood up to go look on the table. The keys to the motorcycle were missing, but the keys to the car were still there. A prickling feeling started down in the middle of my back, slowly creeping up my spine like an icy wind.

Mello was gone.


	11. Beautiful Break Downs

_Hey there. I wanted to show that Mello asking Matt if he would leave was a test. But I couldn't, for some reason. I actually used to have this major infatuation with a Sagittarius before. Biggest. Mistake. Of. My. Life. That asshole was always testing me. Seriously. He toyed with my emotions on a daily basis. It was terrible. To this day, he still is always trying to get me to say I love him. However, I don't anymore and we're just friends._

_It's hilarious at how utterly ridiculous it was looking back on it. That was about… two years ago? Yeah. Two years ago. He's the most hilarious person ever, but he also had this side to him filled with insecurities. He was the type of person who was able to talk big, but be hurting on the inside._

_Anyways, the reason why I'm saying this is that he was born in the same year as Mello was and he was a Sagittarius (just like Mello). So, I figured Mello must have insecurities. Just as this guy did. Because he's born in the year of the snake. Which is why Mello is all freakish and stuff. After all, anyone would have insecurities if they wanted to become better than Near! Near is… something entirely different on his own._

_Now as for Matt, he's not only a Capricorn, but born in the year of the horse. Now, those born in the year of the horse are usually cynical and sarcastic, and Capricorns in general have a tendency to be insecure and can be rather depressed if they let things get to them. Hence, why he nearly has a breakdown in this chapter._

_Okay, just so you know, the flashback is really important, as it pretty much shows what their relationship was like before, until it cuts back to what their relationship is now. It also explains why Matt does what he does when it comes to helping Mello. And just so you know, 'wet cabbage' is British slang referring to someone with a soft head, pretty much. In other words, someone who is feeble-minded.  
_

_- Cake-chan (Just a quick warning, but I've also included some man on woman action. Yes! Shoot me, I'm straight!)  
_

* * *

Mello was _gone_. Gone, gone, gone. Was it something I did? It was, wasn't it? I can still remember clearly the day before. We had argued before breakfast, at the supermarket, after the supermarket. And it was all about Near. _That fucker. What's he got anything to do with Mello?_ And why the hell had Mello drugged my wine? Didn't he know how dangerous that is? _I could have died and he wouldn't have known. Does he even care?_ I walked over to the bed, next to the bedside table and grabbed the phone. I dialed, and my target picked up. 

"Jocie. Hi."

"Matt! Hi! What are you wearing?"

"H-How about we have dinner at my place tonight?"

"I can't go over there now? You sound like something's wrong…"

"No. I need to take a shower and find those boxers you like."

"Alright, but the apartment better not be a mess like it was last time! Honestly, don't you ever clean?"

"No… I guess not."

I hung up and walked to the bathroom. Staring at the mirror for about an hour wasn't the most productive thing for me to do, but I did it anyway. I thought for a while. Then about an hour into it the thinking just melted in with the cold, unfeeling stare. Mello was gone, yes, but how was I supposed to feel about it? I couldn't tell. Because how _was_ I supposed to feel about it?

He always, _always_ did this. He always fucking left me behind, because that's what I was. I was the fall-back guy. Only necessary in certain situations. The distraction. Smoke. And he'd be damned if he didn't remind me everyday.

I stared at every line in my face. Every curve and dip in the skin. I pulled my shirt off and looked at that, too. Looked at the contours of my chest, the way the light cast shadows over every muscle. And I slammed my fist into the counter, because I wasn't feminine enough. Not battered and beaten enough. Not weather-worn, nor burned on the left side of my body. Because I wasn't Mello and I never would be, and Mello would always be himself. Fire. Untamable fire with no care for the things it burned. And right now I wanted to see him looking back at me apologizing so badly.

I turned on the faucet and began scrubbing my hands of the feeling of Mello's skin. Began scrubbing my face to get rid of the feel of his lips against mine. Just like yesterday's wet dream, he was everywhere and I couldn't get a moment's piece. Only this time I wanted it. I wanted it so badly, but he was everywhere inside of me. He was a part of me. Eventually I started rubbing the skin raw. My skin became red and began to sting, but I kept scrubbing because it was something to do. Soon afterwards, I could feel my nails digging in and blood began to trickle down my arm, turning the water in the sink a pale pink. I felt my nails rake against the skin of my arms about ten more time before I finally stopped, breathing heavily and fighting back tears.

Mello would come back. He _always_ came back. It was just the days after he left that I couldn't take, even knowing this fact. I remember the first time he left- before I turned to Linda for comfort, before I exploded at Near and threw his puzzle in his face for not stopping Mello- I had been plagued by nightmares of the worst kind. The kind I had been plagued with after Miss Susan was killed.

Would I have them now? I hoped not. When I heard the rapping on the door, I paused and looked up. Surely it wasn't Mello. The knocking was more frantic and less rough. _Less powerful. _I decided not to bother, but after a while, I heard my name. It was Jocie. _Fuck. I told her not to come right now…_

I stood up and opened the door, lowering my sleeves so they covered the blood. She whirled in and her blonde hair whipped into my face as she ran into me with a fierce bear hug in mind. Interestingly enough, now that I was looking at her, I noticed that she was a fucking aviation blonde. Blonde hair, black box and all that. I spit some of the strands that had gotten stuck to my mouth out and coughed. "Jocie, what are you-"

"You didn't sound like yourself, Matt." Her hand was now resting against my sleeve, and I could see some blood seep through. Surely she felt that. I recoiled, turning around and walking to the couch. She closed the door behind her and walked to me, grabbing my arm. "Matt… Talk to me. If something's bothering you, I would rather you tell me so I can help you through it." She was a nice girl- too nice for my tastes-, but nice, all the same.

"There's nothing wrong… And if there was, you can trust that I'd tell you in a heartbeat."

She rubbed her fingers together, then looked at them. Gasping when she realized it was blood, she grabbed my shoulder and forced me to look her in the eye. "There _is_ something wrong. Something you don't want to say, but you need to. Saying what's on your mind is not a weakness, Matt. Especially if it's bothering you enough to make you start hurting yourself." I looked down, ashamed to speak and she grabbed my arm, lifting the sleeve and zonking out about the amount of damage had actually been done. "Matt, what the hell happened to you? Here, let me get you cleaned up."

Of course, I nodded, refusing to look her in the eye. She sat there, next to me, on the couch, bandaging my arm and rubbing some lotion on it to soothe the stinging sensation. When it was done, she grabbed my hands, rubbing them with her thumb and looking at me, waiting for me to tell her what was up. Eventually, I gave up trying to fight it and I buried my face in her shoulder, letting her wrap her arms around me, and burst into tears.

"I can't… I can't do this anymore, Jocie."

"What do you mean?"

"Everything. I can't do it anymore. It's too difficult, and I'm tired of fighting. I'm so fucking tired and he's a pain to deal with…"

"Who?"

"My flatmate. He fucking left without telling me anything."

She leaned in closer and began to rub my back. This made me cry harder, because it was just like last time. Only instead of Linda, it was Jocie. Jocie with the eyes that reminded me of honey. Jocie with the long eyelashes and fake blonde hair. Part of me wished she was Linda, since Linda had been my closest friend until Mello came along. However, Linda was now touring Italy to get inspiration for her latest exhibit. She would be titling it "Crusades", because it would be about the Catholic church, featuring what she hoped would be architecture from various religious sites, including the Vatican. Mello would have fucking kissed her, had he been up to date with how she was doing.

"I'm scared, Jocie."

"About what?"

"The last time he left I had terrible nightmares. I don't want to have those dreams again. If I have those dreams again, I might just have a breakdown."

She gently kissed me on the cheek before telling me she wouldn't let that happen, but she was wrong. It _would_ happen. Just as it happened with Linda, who made the same goddamn promise Jocie had. Even after the empty sex, Linda wasn't able to make the nightmares go away. She had only been able to comfort me afterwards. Only Mello could make them stop. Mello didn't need to comfort me, even on that night a few weeks ago where I woke from a nightmare. Because in the dreams plaguing me after he left, Mello was leaving, just as Miss Susan had before him. Only he wasn't coming back like he always did.

Another reason why I wished it were Linda, was because Linda knew the sex just replaced Mello. Jocie thought I fucked her because I loved her, but that wasn't true at all. True, I loved her, but Mello always came first.

"_It's always been about you, Mihael."_

I repeated that line in my head over and over again, until Jocie had to grab my face to snap me out of it. "Matt, how about I make you some coffee? I'll make you the French Roast- the kind you like so much. Would you like that?"

I took a deep breath, the tears finally drying. "Yes. I'd fucking love some. Ah… but… the coffeemaker's busted. My flatmate destroyed it."

"Destroyed it!? How on earth-"

"He threw it out a window."

That was another lie. He had shot it. Right on the cable so the cord snapped and it sparked for a good two minutes. Until I managed to suck in my breath and pry the plug from the socket. When that had been done, he shot the fucking glass bowl so the coffee poured out on me, piping hot as hell. He said it was because the bubbling sound was bugging him. I knew it was because he was pissed off that I had forgotten to buy him his chocolate and he knew I had a thing for coffee.

"Well, shit. How about I go buy you a cup from the Starbuck's down the street and you just hang here for a while?"

"Alright."

"Maybe while you're at it you can tune that guitar of yours and prepare something for me to listen to when I get back…"

I nodded, saying I would. When she left the apartment, I went to the bedroom, which I had turned into a storage room. Rummaging around in there took my mind off things, but only for a while. I managed to find my guitar, dusty from a month of lax. However, I also found my old Red version of Pokémon. The one where I had named every single little creature after one of the people in Wammy's House and other people I knew. I grinned ear to ear. I hadn't deleted it, and I turned the old-style Game Boy on, which surprisingly had enough battery life after a good six years. Near was Jigglypuff. Fucking _Jigglypuff_. Mello had gotten a kick out of that- until I named a Jynx after him. I had said that those big lips and graceful thighs fit him perfectly, so he had kicked my ass up and down the halls until I released it. I made Linda a Jynx and named the Mew after him, instead.

I laughed and tossed it to the side, without even bothering to turn the power off. I made sure to remind myself to catch a Jynx on the Blue version and name it Mello so I could transfer it over to that file. Grabbing the guitar and leaving the room, I couldn't help but wonder why nothing about Mello had changed over the years. He was still as big of an asshole as ever, and he still moved his thighs gracefully when he walked.

_But enough about that._

I tuned the guitar a bit. It was easy, despite the fact that it was nothing like Guitar Hero. I strummed on it a bit and walked out to the living room to sit on the couch. I supposed I'd be able to pass the time easily with Mello gone. With Jocie here, I could probably fuck every night, get a second job and generate some more cash flow so that when the fucker returned I'd have enough money to buy a game that would piss him off. I could cook to release anger, play my guitar until my fingers started bleeding, fill the time up with smokes and booze and violent video games.

Hell, maybe I'd even fall for Jocie and become a healthy individual intent on raising a family of children who wouldn't grow up as miserable orphans. That would show that bastard a thing or two.

-------------------------------

_I can still remember the first time I realized how much I needed him. It was right after Mello's birthday- the day after Christmas, to be exact- and we had been talking about my new game. Since my birthday wasn't for a week or two, he was twelve and I was eleven- finally a year younger than him. He always relished those weeks; he was always very pleased with playing the part of the older brother._

"_Wario World? Why the heck do you think that's so cool?"_

"_Because Wario's the anti-Mario! Duh! Don't you know anything!?"_

"_I know more than _you_!"  
_

_He laughed and I frowned a bit, but he was right. It was true. I didn't care enough to be better than him. In truth, while he was striving to be L, I was striving to be him. _

_I had been sweaty, since the boys had decided to drag me out to play football. Mello had come along, but he opted to just mess around with Wario World. It had been a muggy day, the air thick with an oncoming storm. Clouds had been forming, and rain began pouring as we ran inside, the clouds covering up the setting sun. I heard him mumble how it was sort of cool after we got inside. Instead of telling me this, he closed himself off again.  
_

"_Matt, you reek. Go take a shower."_

_As we passed a window, lightning struck a tree down a ways on the hill to the left of the House. I jumped out of my skin and grabbed for Mello. "N-No. What if the power goes out while I'm taking a bath? You know how afraid I am of the dark…"_

_He brushed my hand away, folding his arms over his chest. "… _Fine_…_ _But if the power goes out, you're not allowed to cling to me." A half hour later, we were in the tub, back to back.. I was scrubbing my toes, and Mello had glanced back at me. I could feel it since his muscles shifted as he turned._

"_Matt… What's your real name?"_

"_Why?" I whistled a bit as I played with my pinky toe, pulling it back and forth while I stretched the aching tendons in that foot. _

"_Well… You know about me, but you've never really said anything about yourself…"_

"_You're just mad that you haven't gotten to hear all about me."_

"_Oh, just shut it and tell me."_

"_Alright. My real name is Mail Jeevas…"_

"_What, did your mum forget the S on the end or something?"_

"_No. That's just what it is…"_

"_Hee. Jeevas. It sounds like a butler."_

"_Whatever." I blushed a bit. I had gotten teased a lot for that. And I wasn't even going to get started on the other names regarding my first name. He must've sensed my discomfort, because he apologized and we sat there in a comfortable silence for a bit afterwards._

"_Why are you afraid of the dark?" I was quiet for a moment, and he read my mind. "Is it because it's like being dead?"_

_I splashed the water on my side a little, stuttering. "I- It's really not like that… I was supposed to die a few years ago…"_

_I heard the water slosh out of the tub on his side, and he was facing my back. "Don't say that! You're supposed to be alive now. That way I have someone to talk to… What makes you think you should have died a few years ago, anyway!?"_

"_Miss Susan saved my life and died in my place."_

"_Who?"_

"_She was a volunteer at the orphanage I used to live in… She was like a mother to me…"_

"_Then you have to stay alive and return her the favor. Save someone else from a fire!"_

_I turned to him and grinned. That was just like Mello. Lightning crashed and the lights went out, causing me to jump and splash water in Mello's direction. I began trembling a bit and whimpered, but Mello had told me not to cling to him. And we were naked. That would've been very awkward._

_I heard the water slosh a bit and heard Mello mumble something about this never leaving the bathroom. He moved closer and I could sense his face right in front of mine. I could feel his breath against my nose and he grabbed my shoulders, pulling me closer. Our chests never touched, but his arms covered my shoulders and my trembling soon ceased. If this was what death would be like, I don't think I would've minded it that much._

"_It might take a while to get the lights back on. You should just finish washing off."_

_I blinked and looked up, forgetting I wouldn't be able to see him through the murky blackness. Apparently, his head was closer than I thought and I wound up hitting him in the nose. He scowled, or at least that's what I imagined he was doing, trying to picture what he would look like right now. _

"_Blimey! You bloody wanker! Stay still! I'll have to do it myself, you wet cabbage!"_

_He grabbed a washcloth and started scrubbing my face a bit rougher than I would've liked. My mouth and eyes were open and I wailed and kicked a bit, trying to get the stinging and the bad taste to go away. He fell on top of me and for a split second we both stopped breathing._

They were touching.

_He whirled back and water splashed everywhere. Both of us were squealing and saying 'Ew' about fifty times. I heard Mello gag a bit. "That's gross! Ewwww! I think yours moved!" I suddenly burst out laughing. He splashed a bit more, occasionally telling me it wasn't funny, but I didn't care. I suddenly wasn't afraid of the dark anymore. _Mello's peep is magical after all!_ The thought made me burst into bouts of giggles; the giggles occasionally stopped for a few moments before coming right back. _

_When the water had turned cold, we finally managed to come to a moment of uncomfortable silence. I was bright red, and I could only imagine how many shades of green Mello was. I heard the sloshing and I felt his arms around me again. "Whatever. So you're not afraid of the dark anymore. Now you owe me something in return." _

_My face couldn't turn anymore red, so instead I felt my heart beat quicken. What- What would he want in return?_

_He cackled to himself. "Now you have to stay alive and save my life."_

_I remember grinning as the lights turned back on to see him bright red as well. _

"_Maybe I'll just save you from a fire and kill two birds with one stone."_

_He had laughed and cried, "As if that'll ever happen!!"_

As if.

-------------------------------

_Sigh._

It wasn't like he had wanted to leave Matt behind. He truly didn't, it was just that Matt had to stay and keep the apartment up to date. Make sure the landlord didn't sell all the stuff to a pawn shop and rent the apartment to some other dumb fuck.

At least, that's what he told himself. In truth, part of him was pissed. _Jocie, huh? Fucking Jocie. Who the fuck is she and why the hell has Matt been seeing her for two months? He never gets attached like that. _Yes, he was pissed off about that bitch. And Linda, too. And here he thought Matt was a virgin gamer with no hope of getting laid. Ha! The very idea seemed ridiculous now. Of _course_ Matt wasn't a virgin. _He's fucking sexy. Any girl- or guy- would love to get into his pants. Hell, _I _want to get into his pants._

Of course, if Matt hadn't downed that wine so fast, Mello would've _had _the pleasure of a quick screw before Matt went drifting off to Dream Land. Oh well, there was no changing it now. The only thing he had to console him was the fact that he had taken the boxers and the shirt.

"_It's always been about you, Mihael."_

Mello smiled to himself and clenched his fists, feeling the leather squeak against his skin. However, all that was left was a cold, empty feeling. It had taken him about two hours of watching Matt sleeping before deciding to actually leave. He had to get to New York. He had to get his picture back from Near.

"Sir? Hello?"

He glanced up at the woman behind the desk. "Oh, yes? I'd like two round-trip tickets to New York." The woman smiled and said the total came to $529.69. He paused a moment. "That's a bit expensive. I only want one ticket, how much am I paying for?"

She smiled warmly, but he could tell she was beginning to get irritated. "I'm terribly sorry sir, but you asked for two tickets…"

Shit. He was thinking about Matt again. Dammit. He probably wouldn't be able to go a day without missing him. He wanted Matt to go with him- angry as he was, he couldn't go without Matt. It wasn't fair.

"Would you like to change it to just one ticket?"

I stopped and thought about it for a while. It would take about an hour to get back to the apartment. From there it would take about four hours to get back. Give or take a few, depending on what happened when he got home. Whether it took Matt more convincing to come back with him.

"No… I'd like to change the flight to the 5:30pm. Can that be arranged?"

"Of course!"

He handed her the money and received the tickets. As he was turning around, he heard the woman behind him yammering on her cell phone. "Mother! I'm telling you! He just walked off! No- I don't know! Yes, I'm pissed!"

It was the woman at the intersection. Mello stopped and stared at her. Whether it be fate or just dumb luck, he couldn't help but get the feeling that her relationship with that man rested in his hands alone. It gave him a sort of strong feeling. Like he could make it work with Matt.

"Shut yer yap, lady."

The woman stopped and shot him a dirty look, covered the speaker of her cell phone and asked him who he thought he was. Mello gave a wry grin.

"Instead of moving back with your mother, I suggest patching things up with your husband."

It was a guess, but apparently he had been right. She dropped the phone and reached into her pocket, pulling something out. What was it- a gun? It was shiny. Keys? No…

It was a rosary. She began fingering the beads, mumbling something. She looked like she was about to have a heart attack.

He turned and walked away, catching the sound of her picking up the phone and telling her mother she would be a while as he left. Maybe it _was _fate. Or maybe he_ had_ just gotten a lucky guess. All Mello knew was that that woman probably wouldn't have managed to help her marriage if it hadn't been for him. This thought not only warmed his heart, but empowered him to further his and Matt's relationship.

-------------------------------

I strummed a few tunes on the guitar, but nothing really came to mind. I tried to picture a song that would describe how I was feeling. It would start out low, soft and gentle, but would gradually crescendo until finally it would end abruptly. Maybe I'd break a few strings. Maybe a string would fly loose and hit my eye. I wished I had a piano, as it was the perfect time to start bashing on keys.

I still was unsure of how to feel. Should I have felt sad or angry? Right now I was feeling quite comfortable being somewhere between the two. Comfortably neutral. Grey. Just like smoke.

Jocie came back and handed me my coffee. There was nothing quite like Starbuck's. It was too strong, but I could've cared less. The more caffeine, the less likely I'd fall asleep and dream those terrible dreams. She sipped her latté and watched me. "Matt, do you have a song you want to play?" I shook my head and she smiled. "Play me the song you played on our first date."

I blinked, eyes wide. She still fucking remembered it? Oh, when she put it that way, I suppose I had no choice, then. I took a drink and propped the guitar on my knee. Did I even remember it? _How did it go again? Jocie with… eyes made of honey… Oh yeah, that's it. _I strummed a few chords, then smiled at her a bit, beginning to sing in my low tenor.

"My Jocie, my Jocie, with those honey eyes  
And a smile so fine and dandy.  
My Jocie, I could kiss your lips-  
Those lips that taste like candy.  
Sun in your hair and skin so fair,  
My Jocie, with those honey eyes."

I strummed a bit more, and she laughed. It wasn't a very good song, but I remember she liked it so much because my voice was very soothing. At least, that's what she said. Presently, she reached out her hand and placed it on my shoulder, looking at me with bright eyes.

I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. "Would you care to sing a song about me?"

She shook her head and laughed. "You know I can't sing. I'm all sorts of tone deaf."

As I began strumming again, words began to fill my head. They began to harmonize with the song and play around a few times.

_Sun in your hair and skin so fair.  
Scar etching shadows in your face._

I stopped strumming a bit and listened to the song inside my head. I mean, really _listened _to it. It was like a broken record, to be quite honest.

_Kiss you, taste your chocolate tongue.  
Mello, Mello, lovely fellow.  
Come up second, but you're still young.  
Mello, with that steely gaze.  
Kiss you, taste your…_

Words just kept stringing together and it began to make absolutely no sense. The ending was now the beginning and the middle was overtaken by a new verse. Finally, I put my hands against my head, dropping the guitar and shutting my eyes. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up. Jocie looked worried, so I just shook my head. "Sorry. My brain's filled with activity…" She looked down and nodded, obviously not believing me. I just stood up and walked to the bed. "Jocie, I think you should come back later for dinner. I think I need some rest…"

"What about your nightmares?"

I began taking off my shirt, removing my pants and hopping in bed. I glanced at her for a moment, before hunkering down in the covers to get comfortable.

"Would you stay with me?"

She nodded and went over to the bed, sitting down and letting me run my fingers through her hair.

-----------------------

He fumbled with the phone in the taxi. He wanted to dial the number, but something kept stopping him. There was no telling if Matt would even pick up. Matt had a habit of getting mad and holding miniature grudges for a while.

However, he had just made one woman gain back her faith in God. That was something of his that had been declining. Perhaps it was a sign from God to patch things up. That they'd grow closer during all of this. Maybe.

Then again, God had a way of throwing him wild cards. Sometimes he swore the holy diety hated him or something. He cursed sorely upon realizing that he didn't need a taxi because he had used the motorcycle to get this far. _Fuck._

-----------------------

The phone rang, but I was too busy cupping Jocie's right breast in my hand. It was a perfect fit. Just enough of her boob fell around the edge of my hand. She moaned and I grinned.

The phone rang again, and eventually I stopped my advances and grabbed it. Hissed into the speaker. "What the hell is it!? I'm very busy."

"Matt…"

I paused and slumped backward. Jocie fell back on top of me and wrapped her arms around my chest. I smiled, a bit pissed that he had the gall to phone me right after skipping out on me like that, but it was so good to hear his voice. He actually sounded somewhat apologetic, which was a first. "W-What is it, Melanie?"

"What the-"

Jocie rose up to her elbows. "Who the fuck is Melanie? Are you… are you _cheating_ on me!? Is that why you've been so busy for the past month!?" On the other line, Mello burst out laughing.

"Dude, Matt! What the hell!? Couldn't you have at least waited until after you fucked her? And what's with the whole Melanie bit? Call me that again and I'll kick your ass."

I gave a side glance to Jocie and stood up, handing her her clothes. "No, Mel. Remember I said it was always about you? It still is… I can't… It's okay when you're gone, but…" I heard her huff, shout that she was never speaking to me again and slam the door shut behind her. Mello coughed and I sat down.

"I just called to say that I haven't left yet…"

"Well, why the fuck not? You might as well have, after completely leaving without saying goodbye!"

"I need you to come with me."

I paused for a long time. "I made my arm bleed. Don't ever leave again."

Mello laughed, as if he didn't believe me. "Come on, Matt. I know you aren't that emotional." He wasn't here, so I felt able to tell him everything I couldn't when he was looking at me.

"I mean it, Mel…" I felt tears start worming down my cheeks, and I bit my lip to keep myself from sobbing. I was weak. I really was. I would never be as strong as Mello; I would never have the determination he had. Which is why I was third. Which is why I was smoke. My bottom lip continued to quiver. "The last time you left, I kept having these dreams that I'd never see you again. I just can't stand it, Mello. I hate it when you leave. I never know how to feel."

He was quiet for a moment, and I could hear his breathing shudder a bit. "… Matt… Are you saying you don't care about anyone else but me?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying."

For a good five minutes neither one of us spoke. However, it wasn't an awkward silence, but, rather, a comfortable one.

"Matt, I'm coming back to the apartment. Start packing up your things, because I already bought us two tickets New York. The plane leaves at 5:30, so that should give us enough time to figure out what you wanna take. Out of the some five hundred games you're always playing."

"I'll have you know that I have only three hundred-seventy seven games in my collection. And I don't think that checkers counts as a game, considering it's not even on a gaming platform."

"Whatever… Just… start packing or I'll leave your ass behind again."

It was odd, how we always managed to patch things up without Mello ever apologizing. Mello was never one for apologies. He may have thought about it a lot, but when it came to actually doing it, he only ever said it once every century.

I had my suitcase packed by the time he arrived. It was filled with my clothes for about a week or two. Depending on how many times I planned on changing. In other words, I had three pairs of a boxers and two pairs of pants. The second he stepped through the door, he grabbed my wrist and lifted the sleeve, observing that I had, in fact, hurt myself. There were grooves in my arm, already scabbed over somewhat. I hadn't really taken the time to wipe the dry blood away. He pushed on me so that I was sitting on the bed, and he bent down to his knees, kissing my arm a bit.

It was weird how romantic he was able to get sometimes, but this really wasn't the time to be musing about things. He looked back up at me after a while and frowned. Pouted. I glanced away. The look he was giving me reminded me of a sad puppy and that crying Cherokee Indian in that old 80's commercial all at the same time. You know- the one about the pollution and the tear running down his cheek.

My heart was fluttering and I chose to ignore it. Let him feel guilty. It wasn't as if it would cause any irreparable damage. I felt something moist on my arm and looked down. He had licked a tissue and was wiping the blood away. Talk about gross. But… there was something oddly charming about it.

I stifled a laugh and he shot me a dirty look. "Shut up, Matt. Let me do this. I feel humiliated enough for just thinking about it."

"Sorry. It just seems weird. You just seem more like the type of person who would skip the tissue and just use the tongue."

He shot me a dirty look before considering this. A wicked gleam twinkled in his eye and he tossed the tissue behind him. "You _want_ me to use my tongue, then?"

My face turned bright red and I pulled my arm towards me. "N-No. You're not an animal, Mel."

"Oh, but you are, Matt. Look at that nose of yours. You look like a baby bird. With a giant beak." I scoffed. My nose was _not _big!

"Baby bird!? What the hell? Look at that blonde mane of yours! You're a fucking lion!"

"King of the Jungle. Better than being a small, defenseless baby bird. Birds are fucking lame, Matt. You're so lame."

"Well, you know what you also remind me of? A fucking weasel."

"Oh, and how do I remind you of a weasel?"

I leaned in real close, giving him a smug little smile. "You use underhanded tricks like drugging your flatmate's wine."

He scowled and I stood up, winning that round. As I walked off, he jabbed the back of my knee, causing me to fall backwards, landing with my bum in his lap. He looked just as surprised as I was, and my left eye twitched quite violently. Upon realizing that he had me at a disadvantage, his smile widened into a big, toothy grin. I swear I saw fangs or something. Then again, this was Mello. I wouldn't have been surprised if he turned into a fucking werewolf.

Only… blonde… Like a little Pomeranian…

The thought made me burst into giggles.

He frowned and I laughed a bit more. It was quite comfy, sitting in his lap. Even if he was only an inch taller than me. All of those years sitting spread eagle really widened his lap enough for my scrawny ass to fit there. Like a spoon. His arm was holding my back and after a moment he asked if I was done.

When I glanced back at him, he smiled, but it was more calm than mischievous. "Mel. You won't leave again, right?"

"Not unless you piss me off again."

I frowned. "Right. And drugging my wine makes everything better. I could've died and you wouldn't have even known."

"I made sure you were safe before I left."

"What?"

"I watched over you for two hours before actually leaving. That way nothing would go wrong. You don't give me nearly enough credit."

"Yeah, well you still owe me an apology. I fucking saved your life. The least you could do would be to give me a fucking break every once in a while."

He grimaced a bit. "Then the next time you're facing the barrel of a gun, I'll be sure to save your ass." He picked me up and stood, dropping me on the ground and scowling in that grumpy, childish way of his as he stalked off. "Now let's fucking go."

I hopped up, grabbing him by the waist from the back and nibbling at his hair. "Come on, don't be like that, Mel!"

He scowled and grabbed for my arms, which were wrapped around him with the grip of a python. There was no way I'd let go. "Matt. Get off."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because." I nestled my nose into his hair. "There's three hours until the plane leaves. We've got time to kill."

He sighed. "Well, it should take us an hour to get there."

"So? That still leaves us with an hour and a half, at least."

He grumbled something to himself and decided to finally stop acting so stuffy. He leaned back into my arms and I even felt myself having to push up on him to keep us from toppling over. Whoa. Mello had a habit of acting all tense and then releasing everything in the blink of an eye. This was one of those times.

"Alright. Let's go out for a bite to eat and then come back here. Let me just set an alarm." I blinked and wondered what the alarm was for. He read my mind and told me. "This alarm, is going to go off at the latest we can possibly leave in order to get to the plane in time. Of course, I'll be keeping track, but this is just as a precaution. Now come on. Let's get something to eat."

As he started for the door, I bounced a bit. I was starving, as I hadn't eaten all day. I felt like I could eat an entire ocean full of fish! He just rolled his eyes and gave a reluctant smile- see, the guy was getting there!- before we got in the car and left.

We got fast food and ate at the restaurant, but the conversation stayed superficial at best. I mean, it wasn't like we were going to ramble on about how we were going to overthrow Lord Kira in the middle of a Burger King. It wasn't like that at all. It was more than that. It was more like… _"Hey, the weather's nice." "Oh, I dare say it's the best day in weeks." "Quite right, quite right. Best day in months even." "Jolly good observation there, old bean!"_

There was this underlying tension, and I still had the feeling that Mello must've been mad at me. After all, the tension was terrible! Completely horrific as if we were avoiding each other! When we got back to the apartment thirty minutes later, I figured out why.

I turned the key in the lock and removed it, hand still on knob, before he spoke and made me pause before entering. "I have to prove myself."

I glanced back. _What the heck is he thinking right now?_ "What do you mean?"

"I just mean… that I have to prove myself to you."

I blinked. It was quite weird to hear Mello say this, but then I stopped to think about it… Was it really that weird? He spent his whole life proving himself to one person or another. He had to prove himself to his family, to L and eventually Near. The poor kid was abandoned because his parents thought he was worthless, after all. That would have bad enough effects on a child, let alone being placed in an orphanage for gifted youngsters who had to work their way to the top of the academic scores in order to have any sort of attention paid to them.

I put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Come on, Mel. You don't have to prove yourself to me. I know you can do anything you set your mind to." He looked away and rubbed at his eyes. _Fuck, is he crying?_

"No, I do! I do have to prove myself! I have to prove that I'm better than all of those bitches you've slept with!"

My eyes widened and my mouth went into 'jaw drop mode'. "You're not actually saying-"

"You stayed with Jocie for two months! You never used to get attached like that!"

I coughed, puffing out my chest and giving him the sternest face I could muster. "Then again, you left for some three years. How would _you_ know how attached I get?"

He paused for a moment, before throwing his hands up into the air. "Whatever, it doesn't matter! I have to do this! I just have to!"

I sighed, feeling my heart breaking. He was going to have a heart attack at a young age if he kept worrying like that. Honestly, he was perfect in my eyes. As perfect as any human could get, that is. He needed to relax. To relieve stress. To-

He wrapped his arms around me and looked into my eyes. "Matt, kiss me."

To bump uglies, apparently.

I crushed my lips against his and realized that I needed some chapstick and fast. He didn't seem to mind and he was already gripping my back with those strong-ass fingers of his. It was like a vice- _a vice_! I clenched my teeth a bit and pushed him away. "Woah there! Easy on the violence! That kills, you know."

He ignored me and grabbed my head, starting another long, passionate kiss. I was feeling it and all, but I still knew where we were. So, I grabbed his thighs and placed him against my waist and he held on by hugging me with his legs. I had one hand behind his back to steady the weight and I leaned back a bit, still in mid-kiss, and fumbled for the doorknob. Eventually I found it and I went stumbling into the room, slamming him against the door to close it behind us. One of my other hands was holding his ass and he was holding my face in his hands. There was something poking below my bellybutton, and I knew damn well it wasn't his belt-buckle.

After making out on the wall, I stumbled over to the bed and threw him down on it. He looked up at me, startled, but, then again, you would be too if you were as paranoid as a crack addict. I started unbuckling my belt and unzipped my pants. He was breathing heavily, pulling his gloves off and unzipping his coat.

From there it sort of just collapsed into a bunch of heated moans and noises that even animals wouldn't make. Surprisingly enough, Mello was on bottom. I had always taken him to be the type of guy who'd prefer giving instead of receiving. That really stirred things up for me.

When we finally climaxed, I relaxed and he was hugging my shoulders, his lips right about my temple and exhaling air in ragged puffs. After a while he exhaled one long puff of air and I felt it tickling the hair on my head. It was muffled by my hair and I liked the sound a lot. He finally fell back to the bed and I pulled out and rolled over a bit, so that we were hugging.

He looked at me and gave a wicked smirk. "Was I better than any girl?"

I thought about it for a while before answering. "Well..."

"You seemed really happy during it. I take it that was your first time with someone pinching your nipples every two minutes. Not to mention I think I broke the skin in your back a few times."

"That's because you practically sharpen your fingernails to make claws."

He waved a hand, beyond the point of caring. It was nice when he got to that point. He ended up being _relaxed_, for once, instead of having a stick up his ass all the time.

"But I had no idea you enjoyed pinching nipples during sex. I bet all the women you slept with hated that."

"I never slept with any women. I'm a flaming homo."

"You're lying."

"Okay, so I'm lying. But I'll bet you've been with a few men."

"What does you being with women have anything to do with me being with- Oh my god. Let me guess. You sleep with more men than women."

He frowned a bit and looked away. I was dead-on. That was crazy! _And what about him!? Did he always take it in the ass or something?_ That was heartbreaking. Somewhat.

"Mel, what was with the whole…"

He sighed, already knowing what I was about to ask. He always did, but it stopped being creepy or irritating after the first ten times. "Matt, I'm a domineering person. You know that, and I sure as hell know that. There's nothing I love doing more than cutting people down and showing everyone who's in charge. But… I can't do it all the time. I can't act all tough all the time." He rubbed at his eyes again. "I just… hate myself. I hate myself so much, it sometimes hurts to look in a mirror…" His voice was quivering, and I leaned in and kept his hands away from his eyes.

His face turned bright red and he tried closing them and looking away so I couldn't see the miniscule tears threatening to dribble down his cheeks. But I did see them, and it was about time Mello finally opened himself up to someone. I was glad it was me. After all, we'd been best friends since we were kids and there was no one I'd rather protect than him. Even if he did most of the protecting.

I kissed his left eyelid and he shuddered a bit. "Matt, don't you fucking look at me. I don't want you to see me all weepy like this."

I made a shushing noise and gave him a big bear hug, letting him bury his face into my chest. "There. I can't look at you now."

He started sobbing until finally I could feel my chest and belly getting soaked with tears. "I hate myself so much. I'm not smart enough to beat Near. I can't even do anything on my own like he can. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. Why!? Why the hell does he have to be the best!? Why is he so Goddamn perfect!? I hate not being perfect. I hate not being stronger than this. Even now I'm crying like a baby over something so stupid!"

I rubbed the back of his head and just held him, waiting. Waiting for him to eventually stop and let me console him with words.

"And even then, I had to get where I am by fucking people I don't even care about! They trusted me and I just ruined their lives! Even you! Even you'll end up dying and it'll be all my fault! Only I won't be able to live with myself, just because I need you! I hate needing people. I hate everything. Why the fuck am I so needy!?"

My hand drifted down to his back and started rubbing, feeling how his muscles moved while he was sobbing and wiping tears away.

"I need you, Matt. Don't you dare even think about leaving. If you leave, I'll fucking hunt you down and kill you myself."

"It's okay Mel. I'm right here. I'm not going to leave. Not now, not ever."

"Good. Because I can't live without you. I can't even get into a fucking bathtub without your help. Because I'm weak and selfish and all kinds of terrible. I'm a terrible person, Matt. Just leave before you end up getting hurt by me, too."

"No. You said you needed me here, so I'm staying."

"And I do! I just don't want you getting hurt, because everyone knows I end up hurting the people around me. They end up dying, Matt. I don't want you to die."

"And I don't want _you_ to die, which is why I'm staying. You can't do this without me. Just be glad we'll be able to die together."

After a moment, he quieted down. He sniffled a bit. "Yeah… At least we'll die together." He looked back up at me with crying eyes- you know, the eyes that are puffy and red from crying real hard. "Can we have another go? I have stress flying out of my ears."

I smiled and kissed him, getting ready to fuck him another time, when the alarm went off.

He looked up at me, then at the alarm and cursed sorely. "Fuck-a-loo! Damn it all to Hell!!" He pushed me off of him and started pulling his pants on. "Come on, Matt! We got to get going or we'll miss the plane! Shit!"

I started pulling my pants on and we dashed out, still putting our clothes on and hopping on one foot to put on each boot. I closed and locked the door behind me, and when we got to the car, I noticed he had put his previously packed bags in the back before even getting inside.

"Shit, Mel! I forgot my bags!"

He grabbed me by the sleeve, none-to-gently, and ego!Mello was back and ready for action. "Just sit the fuck down and deal with it! We can't go back for them! Honestly, Matt! You're such a Goddamn flake!"

We managed to walk onto the plane just before the gate closed.


	12. Take to the Skies!

_Here it is- chapter 12. 0: It really doesn't feel like there've been that many chapters, does it? It's probably because about nine "chapters" were, in fact, just one-shots that melted into a story. Did anybody really like those excerpts that got cut from the last chapter? I thought they were immensely funny. It took me a while to come to terms with the fact that they were better off out of it._

_However, they've been re-typed so that Matt is there, too. :D So… yay! _

_Ah yes, and I know this is terribly cliché, but there's aeroplane bathroom stall sex in this chapter. GUFFAW._

_There was so much drama in the last chapter, I felt like I needed to write a chapter with very little drama in it to make up for it. So you get this. _

_It's so humorous it might make you crap your pants._

_But that's most likely just wishful thinking on my part…_

_- Cake-chan_

* * *

If I said I was pissed, it would be a sore understatement. I was beyond pissed. I was bored as hell and fidgety like Jiminy Christmas. I had forgotten everything I had packed when Mello and I dashed out of the apartment to make it to the airport on time. And now we were high above the clouds, a thunderstorm raging beneath the plane, and I had nothing to occupy my hands with. 

I gritted my teeth and made every disgusting noise I could think of. I twiddled my thumbs and strummed my fingers on the armrest for god knows how long. I pumped my feet a few times, trying to find something to do.

Mello was beside me, next to the window- at least if I had the window seat I could've checked out the awesome black clouds beneath us- and was content to stretch his arms every once in a while. _Honestly._ How on earth could he just sit there and look like he was having the time of his life!?

"Pssst… Mel…"

He glanced at me sorely, taking a bite out of his chocolate bar and leaning close to me. "What is it? Don't tell me you pissed your pants like last time."

Oh yeah. I had forgotten about that time! The House decided all the children needed a nice little educational trip to learn traditional airport procedure. We had been 12,000 metres- by American standards it would have been 35,000 feet, since they refuse to use the metric system- up in the air and I had to wee. However, no one had told me that they had convenient little bathrooms in the back of the plane, so I ended up emptying my bladder in my pants, causing quite the uproar. Mello had laughed his ass off for days afterwards, calling me 'The Flying Wee'.

"No… I'm so bored…"

He grimaced. "Then maybe you should have brought your things."

I opened my mouth to say something, but Mello stretched his arm up over his chair and the little boy sitting behind him finally got tired of staring at that delectable chocolate and began to whine. "Mama! I want chocolate!!" Mello's eyes widened a bit, realizing the boy was referring to _his_ chocolate and glanced at me, a look of amusement in his eyes. The boy's mother leaned over and quieted him, telling him they'd get some when they landed. "No! I want chocolate now!"

She sighed and turned to her husband, choosing to ignore him and see if that dealt with the problem. Mello smirked at me and I knew he was planning something evil. He turned to the boy and got his attention, holding out his chocolate bar to him, making sure the mother did not see this. The boy smiled a bit and reached for it, but Mello pulled it away and took a bite out of it, sticking his tongue out at the child and turning back to me, nudging me with his elbow and snickering immaturely. The child wailed and started kicking the back of Mello's seat, but this only made Mello laugh harder. Mello was such a bastard at times. Wait, no. Scratch that; he was a bastard at _all_ times.

The woman leaned back to her boy and quieted him, telling him he would sorely regret it when they checked into the hotel room when they reached New York. I glared at Mello and grabbed for the unopened chocolate bar in his pocket, standing up. "Honestly, Mel. Have a heart, okay?"

There was a portly woman in the seat next to me, and I was glad to stand up, as her fatty love handles bulged into my seat and rubbed against my side. She was currently yelling at her husband across the aisle. He was even more enormous than she, and he took up all three of the seats. It was absolutely repulsive, and I wondered why the plane wasn't tilting. Then again, this was America and I figured they'd made the smart move of making planes fat-proof.

I tapped her on the shoulder and I swore my fingers sunk in a bit. She looked up at me and realized I needed to get by. Instead of standing, she tried to make herself as small as possible. I tried to ease past her, but her fatty legs caught me and I wound up squeezing past and tripping into the aisle, nearly hitting her husband in the gut. As I stood up, I waved to the husband of the woman sitting behind us and flashed a grin.

He gave me a weird look and leaned closer to his wife, mentioning- and I'm not lying- that while airplanes were the safest way to travel, they weren't gay-proof. She slapped his hand a bit, scolding him, before looking at me and smiling. I walked over and handed her the chocolate bar. "I'm sorry, ma'am. My mate was taunting your boy with chocolate, causing him to throw that tantrum. I hope this makes up for it…"

Her smile grew even bigger- if that was even possible- and she handed it to her son. "Christopher! Look at what the nice man gave you!" He made a weird face at Mello, who was glaring daggers at me, and took the chocolate bar warily. She also looked at him, frowning and scrunching up her nose a bit. "What kind of person are you? Taunting a young boy- honestly!"

"The kind that doesn't mind telling women to shut their traps."

She gasped and I leaned over her husband, thwapping Mello across the face. "No! We do not act like that in public!" It was like I was walking a dog. Mello was just bad with people. Bad_ in general_.

He growled and pointed to my seat. "You get back here _right now_. And I never said you could give him that chocolate."

I sighed and turned to the woman, giving her a bright smile. "Sorry for that. He gets cranky when someone catches him doing something wrong."

She laughed a bit. "I understand, my husband's the same way." He finally looked up and grumbled, pulling on her blouse a bit.

"You don't have to tell him that."

"Whatever Harold, I'm not going to have this conversation with you right now. Just shut your mouth and enjoy the rest of the trip."

He shut up and I figured out who wore the trousers in that relationship. I went back to Miss Fat-Thighs and tried to squeeze past her, flying forward like before, only this time I pushed Mello's head into the window on accident. He scowled and went back to crushing chocolate with his teeth. I sat down, feeling the woman's love handles snake their way back up and down my ribcage, and shuddered. The previous moment of politeness was soon overshadowed by pure, untamable boredom. I went back to doing what I was doing before. So, I eventually did the only thing I could do.

Poke.

"Mel… Can I borrow your phone?"

He growled. "No. Why the hell do you want my phone?"

"… I'm sooo booored…" I made a sort of _'gweh'_ sound and he rolled his eyes. Handed me his phone. "You got any games on this?"

"No. Unlike you, I don't waste time playing useless little-"

"Woah! You have Tetris! You've racked up quite a score on it… I'm impressed…"

His face turned bright red and he crunched into his chocolate bar twice as viciously, if that was even possible. He muttered a quick 'thanks' and looked out the window.

Mere moments later, I was building blocks upon blocks, making lines to blow them up, when I felt Mello's gloved hands on my face, felt his breath in my ear and his lips on my face. I turned my face to him, still looking at my game and fumbling with the buttons now. He slipped his tongue into my mouth and I closed the phone, pulling my face away from his and out of his hands. "What is it?"

He had a devious smirk on his face. "You never wondered if I was bored, too."

I sighed. "Okay, sorry. Can I go back to my game now?"

He leaned over and whispered into my ear. "Ever had sex on a plane before?"

Sex at some 12,000 metres in the air? That thought was not only disturbing, but completely ridiculous. And fucking sexy as hell. I was up for anything- no pun intended. I whispered back to him.

"No, but I don't really feel comfortable with some fat woman's love handles digging into my side and some kid with a homophobic father right behind us."

"Did you forget they have bathrooms on these again? Haven't you ever watched a porno before?"

Yes, I had. However, I had not watched anything like "Fifty Thousand Feet Cum" or the like. Seriously- the thought of having sex while flying- yes, fucking _flying_- was kind of numb to me. I had never really thought of it before. Besides, only birds, bats and bugs had sex mid-air. And I wasn't about to become one of those. Or was I?

"What kind of porno do _you_ watch?"

"The good kind. With experimentation. You need to have your eyes opened."

"It's not like I've been blind most of my life, Mello."

"Oh yeah, keep talking dirty to me, babe."

I made a face. "_What_?"

He leaned in closer, his lips practically grazing my ear so he could speak even lower. "Look, I'll just say I have to use the toilet, then ten minutes later you get up and say something like, 'What the hell is taking him so long?' so that Mr. Conservative doesn't get suspicious. Then, we can have a quick screw in five minutes and leave. All you have to do is say something stupid like, 'How the hell did you not know how to flush a toilet on an airplane?'. Got it? Or do I have to explain everything again, dumbass?"

I nodded my head. Whatever. He was always good at coming up with plans on the spot, but I doubted anyone would really care if we came back five minutes later. Besides, there was no way I'd say that about Mello. He'd probably make me look stupid by saying we were fucking in the bathroom, not flushing a fucking toilet. He had a habit of announcing his small victories to everyone he met, regardless of whether they wanted to hear it or not.

He got up, tripped into the aisle and I immediately followed him. Chances are that would turn him on even more. None of that covering up our tracks crap. The second we entered the stall, Mello was snaking his hands up my shirt and vest, fingers kneading into my skin. He spoke between kissing and suckling on my neck.

"Why the hell didn't you do what I told you to do?"

I grabbed his ass and lifted him onto the tiny little sink they had in the stall as he undid my vest. "I thought you'd like it better like this." I kissed along his jawbone and he moaned in response to my answer. He removed the vest- which was great, since I was beginning to feel a heat stroke coming on- and started fiddling with my belt buckle.

I could already see beads of sweat running down his face, so I stopped and grabbed his hands with one hand, bit the fingers of his gloves and took them off, working with the zipper of his coat to remove it and keep him from overheating with the other. He was grateful, and he resumed undoing my belt and unzipped my pants, shoving his hand down my pants and giving me an affectionate, yet painful, tug. I hissed through clenched teeth and groaned into the crook of his neck. "You bastard. That fucking hurts…"

"Suck it up, Matt."

I grinned menacingly. "I'll give you something to suck."

One blowjob later, it was Mello's turn. While I was sucking cock, the door opened and hit me in the side, causing me to bite down in surprise. Mello cursed sorely and kicked against the wall with his boot. Apparently, neither one of us had turned the door to occupied. I took my mouth off his cock and looked out the door to see a very, very startled Mr. Conservative, unlit cigarette falling from his open mouth.

I flashed him a grin. "You mind if I have that cigarette after this?" He turned tail and power-walked back to his seat. I bent down a bit more and reached my arm out of the stall to grab the cigarette and retracting my arm, closing the door and turning the lock. I looked back at Mello all pleased with myself, showing him my prize. "Look, Mel! Free cig."

He kicked the wall once more and glared at me. "You fucking bit my dick."

"Well, he surprised me! Look, if you had locked the door-"

"Or if **you** had locked the door!!"

"I totally killed the mood, didn't I?"

"Well, fuck-a-loo! No kidding!?"

"Look, you had just as much of a chance to lock the door, but no! You decided not to! Instead you decided to start worming your way into my shirt! Hell, because of that **I** wasn't able to! And now some fucker just got a look at us in action! So what do you want me to do!?"

"Ah, fuck. It's so hot to see you pissed off, Matt." He grabbed my shoulders and kissed me hard.

Thirty minutes- and a whole lot of crazy sex- later, we came out of the bathroom. Mello strode in that 'I may take it in the ass, but I'm one dominant motherfucker' way of his, and I was practically skipping. There was a smile as big as the crowd in Union Square on New Year's Eve gracing my face. And all because I was no longer bored. Well… that's not entirely the whole reason.

I could still smell that cigarette we both ended up smoking. Hell yes. It was a beautiful day and we got to smoke my prize. Sweet nicotine. I was as giddy as a schoolgirl. Mello tripped over Mrs. Cankle-pig into his seat, and I glanced over at Mr. Conservative and gave him a wink and a blown kiss.

He turned bright red and looked away real fast-like, his wife glancing over at him then back at us, and she gave us a thumbs up. Apparently he'd told her everything. And apparently she enjoyed gay people. Hell, she may not have been a blonde, but I wondered if she would've liked a quick screw. She was funny, polite, and domineering. Despite the fact that she was polite and a redhead, she was just like Mello.

But no. I wasn't about to break up a marriage when there was a little kid involved. Besides, she was old enough to be my own mother. Not to mention she had my eyes…

I shuddered. Even if she turned out to be my mother, there'd be no way I'd talk to her. My mother abandoned me just because she was a teenager. While I could see why, I held a grudge against her. _Now_ where did that leave me?

Actually, that wasn't too bad. If it weren't for her abandoning me, I probably wouldn't have met Mello. Scratch that- her abandoning me was_ the_ best thing for me. Hell, if she hadn't had done that, I wouldn't have been able to get the chance to live a long and fruitful life with Mello.

I shrugged it off. I'd never thought about my real mother and I wasn't about to start now. Miss Susan was enough of a mother for me, and I would keep telling myself that, even if she was dead. I squeezed past Lady Fat-Leg and tripped again, colliding with Mello. He didn't mind it this time and he sat, one leg over the other, looking very much like a woman with one arm on the little 'window sill', propping up his head as he looked out.

He sat like that for the rest of the trip, occasionally looking at me and smiling, but I never even noticed, as I was too busy beating Mello's score at Tetris.

-----------------------------------

We stepped out into the crisp air of New York. It was nearly autumn and my heart was soaring. I was hoping we'd be able to stay and watch the leaves turn. There was nothing quite like a quaint, little New York street ablaze in the occasional deciduous tree. "Ah! Mello! This is amazing! Will we be able to stay until the leaves turn!?"

"Absolutely not. No way in Hell, Matt. We're here for a reason and I'm not letting you get distracted. Now then, let's see if we can find a phonebook that gives listings for apartments. We'll need to get one close to the SPK Headquarters.

I pointed to a newsstand a little ways away. "There's a guy selling phone books. Couldn't we just grab one from-"

He walked over faster than I could finish that sentence. Which was pretty damn fast. He grabbed one of the phonebooks and I ran over to meet up with Mello. He started flipping through the phonebook, but the guy behind the counter barked a bit, startling both of us. "Hey, you two! Don't look at it unless you're buying. Fuck off if you aren't."

Mello grinned. "Hey, I like your spunk. What's your name?"

"Barbara."

I shuddered and Mello patted the counter. "That's a lovely name… erm… Bye."

As he left, 'Barbara' stuck 'her' head out of the stand and winked. "Come back any time. I won't mind, babe."

Before Mello could flip 'her' the bird, I grabbed his hand and shoved it in my pocket. "Don't even think about it. You need to work on your manners."

He laughed bitterly and wormed his way towards my crotch, grabbing one of my balls and giving it a squeeze. I screamed and he pulled his hand out of my pocket and snickered something fierce. "That's why you don't put a bear trap down your shorts, Matt." I glared at him and he laughed wickedly. "And did you fucking see that beard on her? That sucker was about as long as my cock. There's no way that was a woman."

I grinned a bit more. "Just the way you like 'em, eh?" _Oooh. That had to hurt._

He glared at me sorely. "Come on and help me hail a taxi. We have to get out of Queens and into the Big Apple."

"Can we have sex in the back of the cab?"

"Maybe. If you change that attitude and start acting nice."

I waved my hands at him as we walked down the busy sidewalk. "Oh, _please_ forgive me, _master_! I didn't mean anything by it! I'll never hurt your pride _ever again_!"

When he hailed the cab, he closed the door on me and I wound up walking two blocks until the taxi drove back up and he let me in. Living with Mello was the most exciting and tiring thing in my life…

He _still_ never apologized for squeezing my ball.

**Appendix, of Sorts:**

_I never imagined I'd add this onto Runner's High, but I felt the need to give you a few jewels. These are two things that originally were supposed to happen in the last chapter, but ended up getting cut. The main reason being that I had planned on Mello actually having left for New York instead of changing his mind at the last second. You see these same situations in this chapter, only they've been modified to fit Matt in there._

…

The kid behind him kicked against his chair violently, throwing a tantrum. "Mama!! I want my chocolate! You said you'd give it to me, but you still haven't! It's not fair! You don't love me anymore!! I hate you!!"

Mello turned around, peering at the boy for a moment. The boy stopped momentarily to stare right back. Mello stuck his tongue out, pulling out one of his unwrapped chocolate bars, taking a bite out of it. The child's eyes widened and he started wailing, kicking the seat even harder. The mother yelled at the boy, telling him he'd have no sweets for the next month. The boy quieted down, his mother's punishment sinking in. Mello turned back around and smiled to himself. He snickered a bit and leaned over to the seat beside him, about to tell Matt, but he remembered that Matt wasn't there. Instead, there was a fat old woman who was talking very loudly across the aisle at her husband, who was equally portly.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn't have gone by himself… He began to wonder if Matt missed him just as much.

…

The first thing I did when the plane landed was call Hal. She should have known at least a few things she'd be willing to tell. Something I'd find useful. I grabbed the cell phone and waited for her to pick up. After a moment, the phone clicked.

"Oh. Hello… may I ask who's calling?"

"You know who this is, Hal. I expect you're in the lair of the beast."

"N-Not exactly."

"Then where are you?"

The phone shuffled a bit, and I could hear her speaking to someone. She called him Gevanni.

"Hello?"

She hung up, and I felt all self-control slipping. Enraged, I gripped the phone as tightly as ever and made a motion of throwing it against the nearest advertisement. I exited the doors to the airport and felt free, at last. The air was cool, as it should have been. It was nearing autumn, and the leaves were just barely beginning to turn. There was something beautiful about New York in the fall. Thankfully I wouldn't be here to watch the leaves turn completely. I would only be here for a week, at most.

There was a newsstand nearby, and I grabbed one of the yellow books, flipping to the business section. There were a few apartments that were cheap-sounding. One of them was somewhere near the SPK headquarters. When it came to secret government organizations, they didn't really think about making it a secret. _Near. What a fucking douche bag. Only he would decide to hang a sign out there for everyone to see. _

_Oh! And God forbid he gives tours! Perhaps he even lets children play with his toys? Then again, that's probably the only way he gets any. It wouldn't surprise me…_

"Are you going to buy that or what?"

I sneered at the man behind the counter. "What's it to you?"

He sneered right back. "Go get a fucking phone book from a phone booth if you're just looking."

I grinned. "I like your spunk, old man."

He glared, and spat at me. "I'm a woman, you shithead."

My left eye twitched and I started walking off. _Talk about awkward. That woman has a beard the length of my cock._ I went to the nearest phone booth and grabbed for the phonebook. I needed to find something near SPK headquarters with a fair amount of sight of the entire building. Fuck. I was in Queens, too. This would not be fun at all. Perhaps…

I left the booth and hailed a taxi. When I was on the way to the Nick St. Station exit, I whipped out my cell phone. I had to call him. There was no way around it. I missed him. Needed him. I had already regretted my decision. I was such a fool. It hadn't even been a day.

_And before you ask- ye,s that bit about Gevanni is supposed to be hinting at something going on between them. Hope you enjoyed these. I personally think it's better now that Matt is in them, but I might be biased._


	13. Have I Been Dreaming?

_I have another story to tell you all. (Hoorah!) _

_I was ten years old- just turned ten that very morning- when I picked up J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. It looked interesting and I liked the cover art, so I asked my mum if I could buy it. We were in a grocery store and she was anxious to finish up and get out of there, so she agreed. _

_That afternoon, after we finished putting up the groceries, I asked for it so I could read it. She handed it to me and I read the first five words out of it. Then, Papa snatched it up and gave me a long look. He looked at it, then grabbed my hand and pulled me into the living room. _

_"We need to have a talk," he said. I knew it wouldn't end well, as he reserved that exact phrase for when he was going to lecture me on God and Armageddon and Hell and the like. He sat me down and placed the book on the highest shelf so I couldn't reach it. _

_"We are Christian people, Caitlin." I nodded. I had been Baptist since birth, and he had been raised by strict Baptists. He continued with, "We live in very troubled times." I knew that, too. He had said it many times before. He had given me this lecture about the end of the world many, many times. He had even bought me a lovely picture book about it. _

_"Do you know what this book is about?" _

_"Yessir." _

_"What's it about?" _

_"It's about… um… a boy… and he… is…" _

_"Evil." _

_Of course, I hadn't read but five words and the back summary, so I couldn't really confirm it or not. However, I knew it was about witchcraft and wizardry. I knew Papa would not like it. Which was why I was so anxious of him finding out about it. _

_"Do you know why he's evil?" _

_"No sir." Complete denial. _

_"Because he's involved with witchcraft. You know what witchcraft is, right?" _

_"Yessir." _

_"What is it?" _

_"The… The Devil's hands." He had told me that many times. It was practically a mantra. _

_"And do you know why she is writing this book?" _

_"The author? No sir." _

_"To manipulate children into believing they can use Satan's power to empower themselves." I nodded and waited for him to say those dreaded words. "So, tomorrow your mother is going to take back the book." _

_I nodded and looked up at it, sitting oh-so patiently on the shelf, begging me to read it. I felt so silly for even trying to read it. I knew for a fact that the word witchcraft would make him foam at the mouth, but I made an attempt to try and see if it slipped by. _

_For about three years, I actually repeated what he had told me to everyone I found reading it.. I believed him until I turned fifteen. By that time, I had been fed up with all that garbage Papa had told me. It was a _children's book_. There was nothing meant by it _at all

_I'm proud to say that I am eighteen now and can buy whatever the hell I want without them telling me to throw it away. So, I went out and bought it. And it was GOOD. _

_-Cake-chan_

* * *

I whistled and took in the new surroundings. "Wow, Mello. You really spared no expense on this place. Why didn't we get an apartment? It's more private."

He glared and grabbed the cigarette I was twiddling between my thumb and forefinger. "The reason why is because we can't afford it. We're low on cash. The money I earned in the mafia has finally run out. That means that you can no longer buy cigarettes. You can't use the internet for anything more than business. And we only get the bare necessities food-wise. Got it?"

I groaned. No cigarettes. No internet. Food necessities- meaning only chocolate, of course- which meant I'd be the one starving. He patted my shoulder and leaned in, his breath tickling my cheeks.

"Hey. We're both giving up something. I'll have to cut back on my chocolate intake. And if we are sparse in internet usage, I'll let you WoW it up for an hour or two."

Wait… That couldn't be right. This had to be a dream. Mello was never that nice. _What the-_

I sat up and looked around the dark room. Moonlight was shining through the sheer curtains, making it look like light was dancing among the cool breeze flowing in through the open window. It was so serene and yet…

With a quick scan of the room, I realized Mello wasn't there. He wasn't tangled up in the sheets next to me. Not in front of the laptop sneaking in some work after I told him he should get some sleep, nor by the bed, fumbling with the wrappers of a chocolate bar, deep in thought.

_No. No, no, no, no, no._ _You can't have left again, you bastard._ I stood up and walked towards the window and turned. The door to the bathroom was closed, but there was no light coming from underneath the door. I opened it and flipped the switch. Nothing happened, so I assumed the bulb was burned out. I reached a hand out and hit something.

When my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could barely make out the shape of Mello standing in front of the toilet. After a moment, I heard his breathing come out in quick puffs and burst out laughing.

The fuck was standing in front of the john with his fucking dick hanging out, asleep, head leaning against the wall.

He snorted a bit and looked up, scratching his head. "Fuck, where the hell did the light-"

"Hey there, Sleeping Beauty. Now tell me, did you wander in here and fall asleep, or were you sleepwalking?"

He scowled and pushed past me. "Why the hell did you turn the light off?"

I raised my hands and tried to come up with an excuse. "I flipped the switch off. The bulb's out." He walked out, then paused and turned back to me.

"Speaking of out, since you're standing there in your boxers and I'm standing here with my dick hanging out, we might as well have a quick fuck in the tub."

I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Wh-What!? There's no telling what time it is! We need to get some sleep!"

"When did you wake up?"

"Just a few moments ago."

"So did I. We've slept. So let's just get a good start to the day in the fucking tub."

I pushed past him. "N-No! I just want to go back to sleep!"

He walked towards me and grabbed my arm, shoving me into the wall. "That reminds me. I never asked why you woke up. Did you have a bad dream again?"

"Well, it wasn't bad. It was just… weird…"

"Well, come on then. Let me hear it."

"It's nothing. You were just being nice…"

He stepped towards me so our chests were touching and kissed my cheek, whispering into my ear, "What? You don't think I can be nice? I can be plenty nice. Just tell me something you want and I'll give it to you."

"I want to WoW it up today."

He practically threw my hand into the wall and stalked back into the bedroom. "Absolutely not. This crappy hotel determines how much you have to pay for the amount of internet usage by the hour. You'll be lucky to do anything in an hour. Now, you can always wow me instead." He turned back towards me and gave me a wink and a shake of his hips.

I rolled my eyes and followed him into the bedroom. It all went back to sex. Always. He was a fucking sex machine. Not that I minded, of course, but I sometimes wished he'd be a bit nicer. A bit more… girly. "You want to be nice, right? You'll do something nice for me? Besides WoW." He nodded slowly and I grinned. "Okay. I want to fuck you while you're dressed like a girl."

His mouth opened and then closed immediately afterwards. "Any… preference… in how you want me dressed?"

"What do you mean?"

He scowled, but tried his best to explain. "Like, I could be a Catholic school girl…" He lifted up his finger, signaling me to wait, and then his face twisted into something somewhat innocent-looking. He pulled down at an imaginary skirt and clutched his chest, making his voice go a bit higher to sound naughty and girly. "Oh!! Forgive me Father. I've been bad…"

I stifled a laugh and he continued. "I could be a Nun, too." He grabbed a pillow and removed the case in one swift motion, folding it over his head and giving me a very pious look. "God doesn't mind sexual healing every once in a while."

He sat down on the bed and began putting the cover back on the pillow. "Yeah. I could be anything, really. A sexy nurse. A maid, a police lady. A meter maid, even. Dominatrix, elementary school girl, floozy, cowgirl, flight attendant. It depends on what you like."

Okay. This also had to be a dream. Mello was certainly not the type to completely give in like that. No way. Not ever.

I breathed and waited to sit up and be back in bed, Mello tangled up in the sheets beside me and the sun shining through the window to greet the morning. But nothing happened. After a while, he cocked a brow and waved at me. "Matt. Hey." I kept breathing, just waiting for the dream to end, but it never happened.

"Mail!"

I looked over and he gave me this total 'What the fuck was that?' look. I managed to let out a tiny whimper of a reply. "What?"

"What the hell are you zoning out like that for!?"

"I keep thinking this is a dream… That's all…"

"Why?" He said it with as much contempt as he would have said Near's name, so I figured this could've possibly not been a dream.

"Because you're acting so nice…"

He cracked his knuckles. "What do you think I am!? Some kind of jackass who gets off on seeing you miserable!? If you want cruel, I can give you cruel!"

"Iloveyou."

His mouth dropped and I saw a bit of a blush creep up to his cheek- at least the one that wasn't scarred. That one was still infected a bit and was still a bit red and sore. The kisses probably hadn't helped. However, right now he was blushing. He looked away and coughed, then sat down on the bed and fluffed his pillow. "Whatever… Uh… Let's just… W-Why don't we just go to sleep…?"

I frowned and went to the balcony. It overlooked the SPK headquarters. It was a good place for smoking, and right now I felt a bit pissy that he hadn't said anything in return. I knew it was stupid to expect Mello to mention it, but goddammit! I deserved a little bit of appreciation every now and then, right?

"Wh-Where are you fucking going? Don't you go out on that- the window's already open!"

I flipped him the bird and grabbed the pack of cigarettes by the door to the balcony. He never liked it when I smoked inside. "I feel like having a smoke. You go on to bed without me. I don't give a shit."

He grumbled something, but I couldn't discern any coherent thought from it. After I had lit up and was taking a drag, I heard him turn in the bed. "You've always been the type to do that, you know."

I turned around and looked at him. "Do what?" He was staring at me coolly, looking very matter-of-factly.

"You're the type of person who self-terminates everything they have going for them, playing it off as if they don't care anymore."

I stared at him for a moment and walked back over, blowing smoke in his face. "You know how you know that, Mel? You're a self-terminating person just like I am; only you present it differently than I do." He scowled and waved his hand to fan the smoke away from his nose, and I continued. "See, the problem isn't that you mean to do it, but you inadvertently set yourself up for it by being too prideful. You're too prideful to admit weaknesses- love being one of them. The other is admitting that you rely on people too much."

He growled. "You take that back. I do _not_ rely on people too much."

"Then why are you so willing to admit it in a moment of weakness, but can't right now?"

"Because I don't like that tone in your voice. I don't admit things to people who are pissed off that they don't get any romance. And you'll just go out to the balcony and have a smoke. Why? Because it's all an effort to avoid telling me. So put that cancer stick out and tell me why you're so pissed off." I stood up and took a step back, but said nothing. After a while, he ground his teeth a bit. "And this is why you'll never amount to anything, you sick-"

"I want to hear you say you love me."

He paused a moment and then looked away, turning bright red, the inflamed burn turning even darker red. "I… can't say it when I mean it… And that's the closest thing you'll ever get."

I smiled and bent down towards him, about to lock lips with his. He crawled over to the other side and got off, heading to the bathroom. "Let me go freshen up."

A thought occurred to me- _How was he going to freshen up if the light was burned out?_

When he came back, he didn't look very different, but I heard the sink running so I figured he was washing his hands or something. But what was he washing his hands of?

He sat down on the bed, looking all pretty and naughty. He wrapped himself in the blanket until it was hard to tell whether or not he was a man or a woman- save for the rough eyes and facial scar, and even that didn't help his manliness. "Well, I'll give you girly. For now."

I grinned and leaned over, kissing him. He wormed his tongue past my lips and ran it around in circles. He did this weird curl with his tongue and all of a sudden I felt something moist. And it tasted like chocolate.

He pulled back, wiping some of the drool mixed with chocolate that had gotten trapped under his tongue off his chin and I instinctively swallowed. Immediately afterwards what he had just done fully hit me and I stood up. The fucker slipped a piece of chocolate in my mouth! "Shit! You sick fuck! You **sick fuck**!! Why the hell did you do that!?"

He put a finger to his lips and winked, fluttering his eyelashes. "Oops…"

"You **know** I'm allergic to chocolate!!"

He grinned like a fucking maniac and leaned back, splaying his legs a bit, showing those mannish mannerisms once more. "I know, and I totally did it! Ah man! I thought you wouldn't fall for it since the light's burned out and my chocolate stash is under the sink, but- Fuck! You actually did!"

I was about to run into the bathroom and puke my guts out when I noticed something strange. The blanket he was wearing had a bump in it. Right where- I threw the blanket away from him and saw him naked underneath. Only the bottom half was a man, but the top half was a woman. Oh god. This only meant one thing- I was dreaming again.

I woke up slowly and opened my eyes to see the sun shining through the window to greet the morning. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, crawling over the empty space beside me to make some breakfast.

Mello had left one week ago after another argument and I hadn't seen him since.

---------------------------

"_Alright! I'll just show up at your apartment unawares and have a nice face-to-face chat with you, then. We'll see if Near knows yet or not."_

_Mello closed the phone and grinned to himself. Soon he'd be face to face with Near for that picture; soon he'd see the pleading look in Near's face. Near had always been fond of him and Matt. Of course, there was no way he'd let the little shit be their friend. Near was first. First place needed no one. First place was better without friends. _

_Mello knew Near longed for friends. He knew that first place _did_ need friends. Mello also knew that Near had a habit of using people when he needed to. Mello knew all right. Mello knew perfectly well he wasn't good enough to be Near's friend. Wasn't good enough to breathe the same air he did. Matt might have disagreed, but then again Matt practically worshipped the ground he walked on. _

_Matt didn't know anything when it came to his self-esteem. However low it may have been._

_He glanced over at his partner in crime and waited patiently for the question he knew was coming. In about three seconds, his patience was rewarded with a snide little, "Who's this Hal I keep hearing you talk to? She's got a sexy voice... Is she as sexy as she sounds?"_

_Mello sneered, even if it was a bit forced. He really wasn't that pissed at Matt, since he knew Matt deserved to be a little uppity. "She's no one, Matt."_

_Matt paused his game- Gekido: The Dark Angel; it was shit, but Mello had completely destroyed his DS Lite, so he was forced to spend his time working on an old game- and looked up at Mello, a curious look in his eyes. "Well, you certainly keep talking to her a lot for a 'no one'."_

"_She's no one to _me_.. She's simply someone to help me beat Near."_

"_I'm someone to help you beat Near…"_

_Mello sighed. Not _this _again. "You know you mean more to me than that, stupid-ass." _

"_Of course."_

"_Of course!"_

"_So you won't mind me meeting this 'nobody-to-you' then, eh, mate?"_

"_NO. You may _not_ meet her."_

"_Why not?" Matt paused for a moment, considering all the possible reasons. "She's blonde, isn't she?" He gave a wicked smile and Mello would have fallen face first, had he not been sitting at the time._

_His face turned red indignantly, unable to lie to his best friend, but also unable to tell Matt that Hal was, indeed, blonde, for fear that he would ask to meet her and maybe take her out to dinner. Matt saw through him, however. There was a reason that Matt had stayed his best friend after so many years- Matt had always been able to tell exactly what Mello was thinking without being told what it was._

_Matt gave a giddy snort. "I'd like to meet her! Can I meet her? Pleeease?"_

"_No means no. And that is __**final**__!!"_

…

…

_Hal stared at the weird boy behind Mello. He was a redhead and he was… Actually, he was rather cute. Looked about eighteen or so, give or take a few years. "Mello… Who-"_

_Mello elbowed Matt. "My _partner_ wanted to meet you. He has a thing for blondes."_

_Hal gave a seductive smirk in Matt's direction, eyeing Mello all the while. "Well, I can certainly see why he puts up with you…"_

_Matt gave an ecstatic grin. "I think I recognize you!! I saw you in the special Halloween special of Hustler two years ago! You were dressed as a naughty little witch showing off her naughty bits!"_

_Hal's face turned bright red and Mello's jaw dropped. He shot Matt a dirty look, certain he was just being rude. Hal curled a lock of hair behind her ear and coughed._

"Well_. I think Gevanni was the only one to ever notice that. Aside from _you_." Mello's jaw dropped even wider and he looked at Hal, cheeks turning red, obviously trying to picture the image in his head. He was unable to, and Hal giggled a bit._

_She grabbed Matt's hand and led him inside. "Usually I'm partial to blondes myself, but a little bit of fire never hurt anyone, I suppose…" Mello just stood there in the doorway, giving the most hurt look in the world as Matt turned around and stuck his tongue out at him. _

"_I told you she sounded sexy over the phone…"_

_Mello stomped in and slammed the door. Hal pushed Matt into the sofa and went to the kitchen. "Would any of you like some coffee?" Matt raised his hand and Mello scowled, sitting down next to him. While Hal was in the kitchen making coffee, Mello leaned over and whispered curtly into Matt's ear._

"_Hustler? How come she's not on your wall? I would've seen her!"_

_Matt opened up his wallet and pulled out the pin-up. "Because I take her with me everywhere, of course!"_

_Mello gave a look of horror before snatching it up from him. "How dare you!?" _

"_How dare I what?"_

_Mello looked up to make sure Hal couldn't hear him in the kitchen before going back to Matt's ear and hissing violently. "You don't know Hal! She's seductive and tricksy! If you don't watch out, she'll be in your pants faster than you can say 'What's all this then?'!!"_

_Matt gave a half-pout. "I don't see what the problem is… You said she was a nobody. She'll just be a nobody to me, too… Besides, Mel, that pants comment makes me wonder." He gave a dopey smile and looked curious about just how fast she _could_ get into his pants._

_Mello sucked in a breath as Hal came back in, waved his finger in Matt's face, muttering under his breath, "I'm never taking you back here again! This was supposed to be a discussion about Near with just the two of us! He hasn't mentioned me in weeks and Hal thinks he knows something's up!"_

_Matt gave a look of amazement, sarcasm practically dripping from his lips. "Wow! Weeks, you say? Why, he must be a bit slow in the head!" He scowled and crossed his arms over his chest, scooting as far away from Mello as possible. _

_Hal smiled. "Am I interrupting anything?"_

_Matt shook his head. "Of course not! Why don't you sit between us and tell us abut yourself!"_

_Hal shot Mello a look and winked at him before looking back at Matt- "Trust me, dear. I'm already acquainted with Mello…"- and Matt, in turn, dropped his jaw and looked at his partner. Mello put a hand in front of his face hiding the red in his cheeks. Matt scowled and patted the empty space. _

"_Well then, why don't you just get acquainted with _me_, then??"_

_Hal smiled and sat down. "You know, I've actually got a confession to make. I've been seeing Mello for quite some time and I have to tell you… It's pretty serious." Matt gave her a puzzled look, unable to believe his ears. _

"_C-Come again?"_

"_Well, as you know, before he got you hooked into the mafia, he had gotten ties with me for information on the SPK. We hit it off rather quickly. He's the best I've ever had. Oops!" She put a hand over her mouth and turned to Mello. "You don't mind if I tell your best friend, do you?"_

_Mello was fervently wiping his hands together, trying to keep his gloves on and cool his sweaty hands off at the same time. Perhaps Hal was not aware that Matt was more than a friend? Perhaps she did know and was being a bitch?_

"_I'd prefer if you didn't tell anyone…"_

_Matt stood up and grinned maliciously, shooting Mello a betrayed look. "Oh, __**do**__ tell, Hal! I'd __**love**__ to know!"_

_---------------------_

"_I don't see what the problem is, Matt!!"_

"_You've slept with her on more than one occasion! You even told me that you'd probably have to stay there for a few days and wait and see what happened! Now what am I supposed to think!? That you're just going to go over there and fuck her!?"_

"_What about Jocie!? You don't seem that worried about her now! It's the same with me and Hal! I don't give a shit about her anymore!"_

_Matt rubbed the back of his neck. "You… Well, that's because you're using her. You're using me, too…"_

_Mello scoffed and stormed inside the hotel room. "Haven't I already gone over this with you? I'm not using you! You nursed me back to help and have been helping me ever since! I never asked you to!"_

"_You called _me_."_

_Mello whirled around and stared at his redheaded friend. "Your fucking point?"_

"_How do I know it's as you say it is? You were the one to call me. For all I know, you could've been planning it from the beginning. You used me to rig explosives to the wall of your hideout. You made me nurse you back to health."_

_Mello jabbed his finger at Matt's chest, causing Matt to cry out a bit in pain. "__**You**__ chose to nurse me back to health. I called you looking for help. __**You**__ were the one that chose to keep helping me after the burns."_

_Matt frowned and sat down, flipping the switch on his game. He didn't want to have to get into this. He felt betrayed and used and all types of dirty. Mello sat down next to him and gave a sigh of disgust. "You always fucking do this, Matt. Anytime something bothers you, you retreat to your fucking fantasy world. You refuse to try and solve the problem."_

"_You sound like Near."_

_Mello looked indignant and Matt continued. "You sound like Near. Near tries to solve everything. You're not Near. I'm not Near. Lord knows you'd probably do him, too, if you had the chance, you skank."_

_Mello did not- did _not_- want to admit that that comment had hurt. He also did not want to admit that Matt's next comment hurt twice as much._

"_Because everyone knows you'd do anyone or anything you found a use for... You say I retreat to a fucking fantasy world- I think it's you who has the problems, Mel. Maybe it's time you dealt with them instead of bitching to me about mine."_

_Had he been a child it would have been the equivalent of, "You're an orphan and your parents are dead. All your living relatives- what few remain- don't want you and you have no friends who like you for your personality."_

_Had he been a child, he would have spent the next five days in his room sobbing like a baby in Matt's arms. However, Matt was the one to say it and Mello was a big boy now. So he, in turn, went to deal with it like most big boys did._

---------------------------

Hal rolled off him and frowned. "I still don't see why you like being underneath. That's totally unsexy…" Mello grimaced and looked away. He didn't want to admit it, but he had had his eyes closed the entire time and was thinking about Matt. Hal brushed the hair out of his face. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Mello sat up, muttering something about a dog having his tongue, but Hal didn't catch that. Even if she had, she probably would not have understood what he meant by that.

(Of course, you lovely ladies- and some gentlemen, maybe- probably know what he meant by that. _I_ know what he meant by that, because he's always treating me like a dog. Oh, woe is me.)

Mello left the room and stared at his cell phone. He wanted to call Matt, but at the same time he wanted to make Matt worry. It was so hard to choose. It was downright unbearable doing it with Miss Naughty **B**itch. He was miserable, but he had never been one to share his feelings about how people had hurt him with the one who had done the hurting.

Hal stalked out of the room and put an arm around his shoulder. "Mello, stop worrying about your friend and come back. I still haven't told you about Near… He said that tomorrow he'd have something important to discuss with us about you." Mello, as hard as it was to admit, was not in the mood to hear about Near. He was not in the mood for anything. He wanted to fuck something so hard he wouldn't feel anything afterwards…

He wanted to sob his eyes out was more like it. Clean out of his head. Just like that.

"Hal… I'm just using you, you know."

Hal nodded and pulled Mello back into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and wrapping a blanket around herself. "I'm well aware of that. However, Near also uses me, so I'm used to it." When Mello gave her a suspicious look, she gave a smug little smile. "Not in the way you're thinking. I'm the one who tucks him in when Gevanni isn't there to fluff his pillows and the one who makes him his sandwiches."

"Peanut butter and jelly with three squirts of honey. Heated up for a few seconds to make it easier to digest…"

Hal gave a high whistle. "That's impressive. I guess he always used to eat that, then?"

Mello sat down next to her. Yes, he was not proud of that fact. He was definitely not proud of knowing Near's favorite sandwich, colours, toys to play with and flavor of carbonated water.

For the rundown- aside from the sandwiches-, it happened to be: blue, yellow and orange; Legos and other similar toys; and, of course, peach.

… Near also enjoyed getting pat on the back twice before going to bed- following a glass of warm milk, of course.

And, like before, he would not tell Hal that he knew this- no sir.

"I hate him so much…"

"Mello, I've been meaning to ask you… Why on earth have you been over here for a week? How is your redheaded friend doing all by himself?"

"Better off, hopefully. He's allergic to chocolate, so when I'm around he ends up having to spend all his money on chocolate. Maybe now he can get some sustenance…" Not that he cared much. Well, that was a lie. He cared a little…. He cared a lot. But after those cruel things Matt had said to him, he wanted nothing more than to have a good cry about it.

He couldn't help it- a single, manly, yet oddly not, tear went rolling down his cheek. "Hal, do you think I would fuck Near if I had the chance?"

Hal stifled a laugh. "I'm sure you're the only one who can answer that, tiger…" When Mello looked serious, she took a moment to reflect on it. "Well, you still need him alive, right? So I suppose if his life…" She stifled another laugh, here. "D-Depended on it… you would probably fuck him."

Mello scowled. "I hate him being so perfect. He doesn't know what it's like! He doesn't know what it's like to struggle through life to get what he wants! Everything's always come easy for him!" He wiped his hand over his eyes, trying to hide the tears that were about ready to fall. "Why is he so perfect!?

"I'm so pathetic! I can't get through life without people and he seems to just float through life without any help in the world!"

Hal reflected on this. "You know, you're more like Near than you think." Mello turned to glare at her, but she ignored the threat and continued anyway. "Near _does_ need help. That's why he has us. That's why he's mentioned he wishes you would work along side him."

"I figured as much. He just wants to use me."

"And why do you think he needs to? Because he's just like you." Hal grabbed Mello's hands and he fought the urge to get up and run out the door. He did _not_ want to hear this. He would've rather died than heard this. "Mello, the only thing that really sets you apart from Near is the wall you built between yourselves. That and the higher marks he got. And what do higher marks mean, anyway? Higher marks count for nothing if you don't know how to use the knowledge you've learned."

This time, he did stand up. "Shut the hell up! Shut the hell up about Near! He's nothing like me! He's too perfect to be me! We can't get along because we're too different, not because I don't try!"

Hal looked at him and gave him a knowing look. "When have you ever tried to get along with him?"

Mello practically spat at her. "Never! But it's not like it would've made a difference! I hate him and his sickeningly cocky attitude! He's always looking around at everyone else like he's better than they are! He doesn't know what it's like being at the bottom- having to work his way up! No one fucking knows what it's like!"

Hal pursed her lips together, gathering her thoughts. After a moment, she sighed. "Mello, I know this may sound weird, but I understand what you mean because I'm a woman."

"What?!"

"When I first joined the CIA, I was treated with absolutely no respect. I had to work my way up in the ranks in the only way I knew how. I had to give it my all-" _'Or give it to all your superiors…'_ Mello thought darkly- "and be tough. I had to be tougher than the men in charge. I had to show no mercy and no weaknesses. Because of this-"

"You're an ex-CIA agent working for an unfunded government organization bent on overthrowing a madman's dictatorship! Yeah- how much better are you than you were before? I'll bet Near doesn't give you respect…"

"Near's a child."

"He's a spoiled little brat who gives no thought to the cares and feelings of those around him!"

After a moment, the question that had been plaguing Hal's mind since she had met Mello finally slipped out. "Did you like Near at one point?"  
"_**What?**_ Why would I like that freak!?"

"It's just… you seem bitter…"

"Because he's always been better than me! I was the top student at the orphanage until that little shit came along and stole my place within a week!"

"Yes… but… before he became better than you, did you try to get to know him at least?"

After a moment, Mello sighed. "Yes. But that's not important."

"Yes it is! What happened when you tried to befriend him?"

Mello's hands curled into fists and his face twisted into something angrier than Hal had ever seen. "He closed himself off. The little shit distanced himself from everyone! I was only trying to be nice and he ignored me! He's always been like that! Except when me and Matt got close! Then he decided to try and befriend us!"

Hal tilted her head, suddenly thinking about something extraordinary. Perhaps it was not that he had distanced himself from people. Perhaps it was that he hadn't seen a reason to interact until he saw how well Mello had gotten along with Matt… Perhaps…

"Mello, do you think Near looks up to you?"

Mello burst out laughing. "Of course he does! He's at least six inches shorter than me! Always has been, always will."

And that settled that. Mello closed himself off to the idea of Near actually thinking of him as a role model. Of thinking of him as an older brother figure. As someone to admire.

-------------------------

I wanted desperately to go down to the SPK headquarters and speak with Near. Maybe Near knew what Mello was up to. Maybe… Maybe Hal had said something. I had to know if Mello was alright. I had to know if Mello was even considering coming back to me.

However, nothing could prepare me for what Mello had up his sleeves. It wasn't until later, after the business with the riot, that I realized how much I had hurt him. For you see, I was so worried about whether he was alright, that I had forgotten just how emotionally fragile he really was. I had forgotten what it was that I had said to make him so angry at me in the first place.


	14. Finally, You Bitch!

Ha ha, I'm sure the chapter title reflects what most of you are feeling right now.

Sorry if this chapter is so dull. The main reason for that is because this sorta follows the events of Chapters 76-80 from Mello's point of view, so it might be a bit boring. (This is the main stumbling block I've been having with finishing up this chapter. I didn't want to have to do it, even though it was necessary to get the next step.)

Surprised? Yeah, I actually finished this chapter. A year later. Damn. The good news is the quality of writing is twice as good as it was last year. When I transferred over into South Park, I learned a lot (I was taking a college-level English course and I loved my teacher so much. I wanted to make her proud of me. Ha ha, so I improved greatly trying to blow her mind.) and now it should be much better than it was before.

I'd actually thought I'd never end up finishing this chapter, so what's the meaning of this sudden upload? I went to A-kon as Near, and most of my friends went as Death Note people this year, because now they actually _like_ it since it aired on Adult Swim. Ed was Mikami, and she took off the glasses and did her famous Matsuda "Oh-shit-Kira's-in-the-Yotsuba-and-I-just-got-caught-listening-in-on-their-weekly-kill-meeting" face. There was this really great pre-explosion Mello with the feather coat and gun and everything. Ed borrowed her gun while she was being Matsuda and shot our Light.

And with that, I leave this last thought of the Death Note photoshoot at A-kon:

Three Mello's, one Matt.

The long-awaited fourteenth chapter starts now.

(I hope you all enjoy it. It was a bitch to write. Try not reading the manga in a year and a half and having to follow it almost word for word. Not fun. On that note, I'd also like to say that the scanlations I read before the manga came out had a line that Hal says that I like a lot more than the official line, so I changed it to that. Ironically enough, it fits perfectly with the topic of Matt, so that was a pleasant surprise. Let's see if any of you are observant enough to catch it. Hee. Also, because I feel bad for you guys, I pulled out the original "flashback" this chapter starts out with. I forgot to post it before Chapter 6, so I had to change it up a bit. So, you get a little special bonus story (the original "flashback" is funnier when looked at in Matt's perspective) and another bonus story that I typed up one day and still have not found a place to post it where it feels right. It's about Matt's little problem with women. I hope you guys enjoy these little bonus stories. I want to make it up to you for posting a rather dull chapter after almost a year of making you guys wait. I hope you enjoy it. They'll be at the end of the chapter.

- Cake-chan

By the way, I'm well aware that during the Mogi investigation, Mello is actually in an apartment that he and Matt rented together, as shown in the anime, but I figured I could stretch the truth a bit. Just enjoy the story and ignore that little detail. Ha ha… I'm also well aware that during the same investigation, some of the phrases aren't the same as they are in the manga. I changed it up slightly for aesthetic purposes, because I thought they sounded a bit too bland in the actual manga.

* * *

_He was pissy, angry, and his face still stung from all the work Matt had done on it. Every five seconds he was yelling at the redhead. "Matt, you worthless piece of shit, where the fuck is my chocolate!?" Or, "Get off your lazy ass and– Where the fuck does all my chocolate go!? Do you keep eating it, you fucking bastard!?"_

_Matt looked at him that time, looking upset. "Um… Mel… You're the one eating all the chocolate. And we're tight on money, so we need to spend it on actual_ food_."_

_He'd yelled at him, not even caring about how upset he was. "You can fucking eat the couch for all I care, I just want my damn chocolate! The next time you leave, you better not even __think__ of coming back without chocolate! Go sell a kidney or something!"_

_Instead of yelling right back, Matt had sidled up to him, acting as sexy as he possibly could. "Hey Mello, you're too hot to handle…" He touched the burn scars and acted as if they burned his fingers or something, letting out a slight "ow!" as he did._

_Matt laughed weakly, snorting at the end like he used to do all the time as a child, but managed to only do it when he was nervous these days._

_He had laughed, albeit forced. "You're funny, Matt. Really! You're a riot! You think you're __**so**__ funny!" His face hardened. "Shut the fuck up, you retard."_

_Despite the fact that Matt was trying to help him out, he was in no mood for puns._

–––––––––––––––––––

Mello glowered. Matt had always tried to cheer him up when he was feeling down, but what had he done? He'd thrown everything back in his face and accused him of using him. Like he would be using him! He loved Matt, and just because he didn't say it all the time, he was getting accused of using him! The nerve of that redhead; that asshole.

The key turned in the lock, setting his nerves on edge. He'd been here for two days, and Near had apparently decided _not_ to talk to Hal a day ago like he'd planned. Near was planning something; he just knew it.

She walked in, and he pulled the gun out on her. When she put her finger to her lips, he sensed something was up. So…Near _did_ know it was her that had been in contact with him, then? Of course he would: he was a genius.

"Near, I want to take a shower. I'm taking the wire off for a while."

She placed her purse onto a table near the bathroom, and he followed her, wary. She went into the bathroom, stripped and got into the shower, and he leaned up against the wall, brooding. So Near was aware of everything now…

"So, Mello, did you go back and talk to your friend? Or have you been hiding in my apartment all day? Maybe you should stop running away from him. You should really try and–"

"Shut up!" He glowered at the shower curtain, glaring at every curve of hers that he could see silhouetted in the sheer fabric. "Don't even _try_ it, Hal. I swear…"

She made a tsking sound with her tongue and teeth and then began washing her hair. "Like you'd _actually_ kill me… Well then, let's get down to business… Near came to the conclusion that you would try to contact me, but I don't think he knew that we had already met."

Mello sneered, taking a bite out of his chocolate bar. Near was a bastard with no concern for others. He had probably assumed Hal would be the one he'd come into contact with because she was a _woman_. He didn't even know she was absolutely fearless when it came to danger. Either that, or he'd really known. It was just like Near to not give Hal enough information; she wasn't as smart as him, she wouldn't know what was going on in that enigmatic, pasty-white head of his. Knowing Near, he'd just acted the part of innocently being unaware of their previous meeting.

"It's so like Near to think that way…"

She ignored his comment, making a drastic change in the conversation again. "And you no longer have the notebook, so all you can threaten me with is the gun, right? You can't control me, and if you use the gun to kill me, it's only going to make it easier to track you down. …I'm going to have to place cameras in all my rooms after this, excluding the bathroom… So what are you going to do? Live in the bathroom?" Her voice lowered, taking on that seductive, gruff tone she always took when she was trying to seduce him. "It'd be like having a little puppy. I could use a pet."

Mello glared, looking back at the ground. Matt had always accused him of treating him like a pet instead of a friend. Damn it. Here Hal was giving him relatively good information, and he still couldn't get Matt out of his mind.

"Near also thinks the new L is Kira."

He shot out of his musing and looked up, wide-eyed. "L…!!" Why would L be– That was right; he'd completely forgotten… His L was dead. The new L was what she had meant… He sighed, his heart finally aching in a way that didn't involve Matt. L was so great, and now whoever it was that was using his name now was slandering his name… And _now_ Near thought that he was also Kira! If Near thought that, it was definitely true! L was being completely mocked, abused; his good name was being tarnished! When he got his hands on the new L, or Touta Matsuda, as they'd said it was–that useless bastard–, he was going to–

The water fell out of the pipes in a rush, causing a great noise that showed just how old this piece of shit building was that she'd decided to find an apartment in. The shower curtain scraped against the metal rack holding it up, and Hal stepped out of the shower. "So, what are you going to do?"

He glared. "Hal, who's side are you on? Mine or Near's?" Knowing Hal, she was probably using him just as Near liked to do.

"I already told you a week ago, didn't I? I'm on nobody's side. You, Near, and I all want to capture Kira. We're all after the same goal." She walked past him, and he glared; she turned her eyes to him, repeating her first question.

"So what are you going to do? Are you going to run away? If you do, I'm going to tell Near that you were hiding in my bathroom, and I met you. Or do you want to meet me later _somewhere else_?"

He knew where she was going with that last question, but the last thing he could do was go back and work things out with Matt. He had to finish this now and deal with Matt later; eventually the hotel would be pissed, and Matt didn't have the money to pay. He had to get this over with quickly. "Hal, go back to headquarters."

She scoffed. "What? I've got no reason to go back there now."

He pointed his gun at her; if he was going to hide out at Hal's house, he also refused to stay in the bathroom. If they knew he'd already gotten her, they wouldn't need the cameras, and he could relax. He'd finish this now, all without going back and seeing Matt.

"Make one up; go back," he snarled.

After he got his photo back, he had some work to do peeling away the corners of the task force. He'd make them talk. They'd tell him who Kira was; that Matsuda freak wasn't smart enough to have outsmarted L: they'd lied to him. But why? The new L must've been pretty important to them.

She just gave him a disgruntled look and sighed. "Okay, okay… Stop pointing that thing at me."

––––––––––––––

The walk to SPK Headquarters was relatively short. In fact, her apartment building was right next to the building. There were many times when he'd looked off the balcony and saw a small figure at the balcony where their–his and Matt's–hotel room was located. They were located directly diagonal from it, so he got a different angle of the headquarters at Hal's apartment. And it was a welcome angle.

He walked in, gun to Hal's head, and Near's lackeys immediately turned, pointing their guns at him. "Drop your gun!!" One of them said; the guy was older and much better-looking in terms of the stereotypical cop.

Near was facing away from him, towards the screens, toys surrounding him. "That goes for everybody. Put your guns down. It's meaningless for us to shed any blood here."

A younger guy, a guy Mello assumed was this Gevanni Hal was always talking about, spoke next. "B-But Mello killed the other SPK members…and he kidnapped and killed the Japanese police director…" It was obvious he was afraid the blonde would kill his beloved Hal.

Near spoke again, firmer this time. "We have no proof of that, and I think Kira is the one who killed the director…but that's not important now. Don't make me say it again. Our goal is to capture Kira. There is zero gain for us to kill Mello right now. He got the notebook once, and was able to get closer to Kira than any of us. That's something we should respect, and pointing a gun at him is just rude."

They lowered their guns and Mello lifted his away from her head, glaring. "Well said, Near. So everything's gone as you imagined?"

His response was simple and aggravating– "Yes." And then he added, sounding like a shy child, "Though I didn't expect you to come all the way here…" His voice hardened again, taking on an almost all-too-innocent tone to it. "And thanks to you, Mello, I have been able to greatly narrow down my suspects for Kira."

Mello glared, pointing his gun at him. Near was acting just as he used to–friendly and yet condescending all at the same time. "Near, I'm not a tool for you to use to solve a puzzle." The two lackeys aimed at him again, but Near held firm.

"Commander Rester, don't make me repeat myself: Please lower your gun. …Mello, if you want to shoot me, shoot."

The prospect was so tempting, and Mello took the safety off his gun, cocked it and took aim. He was going to kill that pasty-white brat if it was the last thing he'd– Just as he was about to pull the trigger, Hal stepped in the way. Her words were just as calculated as they were improvised, and he knew that even if Near didn't respect her for her cleverness, he certainly did.

"Mello, if you kill Near right now, then even if you succeed in capturing Kira, it will all be meaningless. And if you shoot Near, we'll have no choice but to shoot you. What good is there in both of you dying? That will only make Kira happy."

All he could think about was how happy Near would be if him and Matt were dead. He chuckled, knowing it was crazy to be thinking of Matt at a time like this. He had a job to do. He lowered his weapon, and they did the same. "She's right. Near, I just came to get the photo you have of me."

Near pulled it out, rolling his eyes because he knew Mello would ask all the necessary questions, and it was a waste of his time to dawdle, as much as he wanted Mello to stay. "This is the only remaining photograph, and there are no copies of it. Also, the surveillance cameras here only monitor: they don't record. I've contacted all the members of Wammy's House and anyone else from your past who would know your face. It's not a hundred percent perfect, but I think it's safe to say you won't be killed by the notebook."

Mello sighed, knowing Near had no idea that the members of the task force already knew his real name. He turned over the picture, finding the words "Dear Mello" written on the back in Near's clumsy, awkward cursive. So, Hal had been making the wrong assumption–he knew he'd see him again, and he'd been planning on Hal telling him everything. He had no idea who to trust anymore. Maybe Hal was in on it, too.

He stuffed it in his pocket. He had to think…maybe Hal had suggested Near looked up to him because Near told her… Or maybe he told her to tell him that so he'd join forces. "Near, I have no intention of joining forces with you…" And yet…he needed to give Near some information. If Near would use him, he'd use him, too. He'd follow Near's progress, decide how to move, and steal the notebook and his rightful spot as L right out from under the little white freak.

"But it would upset me to receive this picture without giving anything in return… The murder notebook. It's a shinigami's notebook, and people who touch it are able to see the shinigami."

His lackeys didn't believe him, but Near's voice rang out soft and calm. "I believe him. What advantage is there for Mello coming up with such a stupid story about a shinigami really existing? If he were telling me a lie, he would tell me a normal–more meaningful–lie. Therefore, the shinigami exists."

Mello rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. "The notebook I had belonged to a shinigami named Shidou who dropped it in the human world. He had to come down to get it back. But another shinigami had it before."

Near was quick on his feet. "We know that because there were rules written in English inside the notebook for humans to use, right? It would be odd for a shinigami to write down rules for humans to use when he wants to get it back…"

Mello turned around, knowing Near would get some use out of his next tidbit of information. "And one more thing…there is a fake rule hidden amongst the rules written in the notebook. That's all the information I can give you." He knew there was really more than one, but he only needed to suggest one and Near would eventually knock out the ones that were fake.

Near liked games so much; well, he'd give him a game he'd never forget. And in the end, he'd come out the victor. "Near…" Near answered him, and Mello felt the corners of his lips curve upward. "Which one of us is going to get to Kira first?" _Me,_ he kept saying to himself. _Me, me, me. All me._

Near's voice held a hint of amusement, but it'd be crushed after he stole his rightful arrest. "The race is on."

Mello walked out. "Our destination is the same. I'll be waiting for you when you get there…" _Me, me, me. I'll beat that shrimp. I'll beat him, and I'll take my rightful place as L's successor. _It was a mantra running through his brain. He took a bite of chocolate and grinned, his victory already assured.

–––––––––––––––

He went back to Hal's apartment, picked the lock and, sitting down, pulled out his phone. He could… No, he wouldn't call Matt. He still had to peel away the layers of the task force. They had lied to him, because L–no, Kira–was important to them. Why had he taken over the investigation? Yagami had been the one that seemed to be in charge, so who was the fool running the investigation behind the scenes as L? If Yagami had been Kira, he would have killed him on the spot when he found his name. No, the eyes required a sacrifice, and Kira wouldn't be that stupid to give up half of his life. There had to be a connection somewhere, and he was going to use Near to figure it out.

And if all else failed, he'd kidnapped Sayu–he was sure the task force wouldn't be too pleased if he got his hands on their ex-chief's son. His plan was perfect.

He picked up the phone. He had two numbers to call, and that Matsuda was supposed to be Kira. In the off chance Touta actually had been Kira–though he doubted it–it wouldn't be safe calling him. He'd call that other one–Mogi.

He picked up the phone, dialed, and waited. When it picked up, he grinned into the speaker. "Are you Mogi?" There was a long pause, and he frowned. "Are you alone?"

The man mumbled a quick "No," and he cursed himself. That fucking liar. The task force had done nothing but lie to him so far, and he knew what to expect by now. He cleared his throat, chuckling a bit and souring up, angry that they'd lie to him outright like that. But he'd play the part of believing the bastard.

"So, is there someone near you?"

"No," Was Mogi's response, and he nearly threw the phone down. That was _it_. He knew they were lying, and he wasn't going to just go and _pretend_ he didn't know. He wasn't going to pretend he was a _moron_. He grimaced into the phone, trying his best to keep his voice waxing calm.

"Then this conversation is not being overheard? Well then, I want you to keep answering so that the _others around you_ will not realize who you're talking to."

Mogi mumbled a quick and nervous, "Okay," and Mello sneered. That fucking liar. He showed him who wasn't a moron. Lie to him, would he? He'd give him something to lie about. If Kira was among them, there was a chance he'd kill this precious fuck to their investigation. He grinned, his revenge already taking on a life of its own. He'd kill two birds with one stone.

"Mogi, why don't you come to New York to see me?" There was silence over the phone, and he could practically hear the silent whispers going back and forth in the eyes of every task force member listening in. Well, this wouldn't do. He'd have to assert himself some more. "I won't tell you anything else unless you come to the place I specify. No cameras or wires. Oh, and make sure to bring extra cell phone batteries; _got it_?"

Before he could even hear a response, he continued, snippily. "I want you to tell me right now if you're coming or not. I can't let you hang up or think about it since you could come up with a plan with the people around you. Stay on the line with me at all times. The only time you can turn off your phone is when you get on the airplane. I'll call you again once you land."

There was silence, and Mello rolled his eyes. Oh, maybe they were monitoring it and his friends were discussing it without Mogi's input. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? No matter; they probably wanted to catch him, and he wasn't letting them do that. In fact, they wouldn't even get to see his hot ass anywhere in New York. So there.

Mogi spoke. "Okay, where do I need to go?"

He smiled, his face beaming. "Good. I want you to come to the exit of the Nick St. Station in New York as fast as you can."

Sure enough, in a few hours, Mogi was standing there at the entrance of the subway, staring around stupidly. Mello grinned, pleased with himself, and peered through the binoculars again. Christ! The man was a gorilla! He was bigger than Rod! Even his name sounded like something given to a gorilla. He swallowed his surprise and peered back through the binoculars.

He'd taken the subway, eh? Poor bastard should've taken a cab. Hopefully he didn't get attacked by bums looking for some spare change. Poor bastard didn't even speak English and he chose to ride the _subway_? That must've been stressful.

It was about to get even more stressful. Near's interrogations back at Wammy's House had always left his victims feeling drained. And though he wasn't there to beat the tar out of Mogi for information like he loved doing as a kid, he wouldn't have to. All he'd have to do would act like he was in league with Near and freak the entire Goddamn task force out.

"I've arrived at the Nick St. Station exit."

"Enter the building right across from you." Mogi did as he was told and Mello lowered the phone, quickly dialing up Hal on the phone he'd stolen from Matt in the middle of the night the other day. She picked up, and he cleared his throat.

"Hal, it's me. Get Near."

There was a few moments of silence, until he heard the ruffle of something soft against the phone, mostly likely Near's sleeve and hair. He swallowed his discomfort at hearing something so close to the boy and smiled, refusing to let his own pride get in the way of his revenge and getting an advantage out of the situation.

"Near, a man named Mogi from the Japanese task force is going to show up at your headquarters very soon. He's a well-built man; about 6' 2"… Now it's my turn to use you. I want you to let him in and ask him everything you need. But keep his cell phone on so that I can listen to your conversation through it. If L is really Kira, then pull the information out of him in a way that will convince me. I know you're good at that stuff. If you can do that, then I'll get Kira myself."

And, through Mogi's cell phone, Mello listened as the interrogation played out.

"Please sit down. There's a lot of things I want to ask you. …Mogi, isn't it? All Mello wants to do is capture Kira, just like we do. I'm sure you understand that. Won't you cooperate with us…and put your life at stake?" Mogi said nothing, so Near continued.

"You've met the former L–the _real_ L–, right? Is there anybody in the current team who L suspected even in the slightest of being Kira?" And, when he didn't respond, "Even a yes or no would suffice."

Nothing happened, and Near sighed. "Mello, there is a chance that this investigator is already being controlled by Kira so he won't say anything."

Mello chuckled to himself, applauding Mr. Gorilla mentally for his determination. "Right, Near. I think we can assume Kira is in the Japanese task force if our friend here doesn't say anything. There's no reason for him to not want to cooperate to get Kira. Even if it's not by the notebook, he's still being controlled."

And here, just in case Mogi just wasn't in league with Kira and didn't know– "I actually had a bunch of guys test the notebook a number of ways, but nobody who wrote the names down died after thirteen days."

He could feel Mogi make a sound as if he was surprised, and he felt the gorilla's resolve slipping. If not now, then soon.

Near spoke again. "The writer will not die even if that person does not write anything down for more than thirteen days. Is there anything that strikes you as odd about this, Mogi? Even the slightest thing will do. All we want to do is get Kira, so there's no reason for us to lie to you. I'm sure it is uneasy for you to have one of your members suspected of being Kira. …It should be much easier if we talk about it and settle this problem once and for all… Don't you agree?"

But Mogi would say nothing.

––––––––-–––––––

I looked up from my balcony, sighing and letting the butt of my cigarette fall from my mouth on the unsuspecting pedestrians walking on the sidewalk below. Mello had been gone for four days now. We'd–well, _I'd_–been here for five days now, and the front desk wouldn't stop calling. I couldn't risk pulling the phone from the wall, or they'd discover I was avoiding them and kick me out.

I cricked my neck and sighed, walking to the door and grabbing my vest. Mello had been here two days ago. He'd stolen my phone from me in the middle of the night. Along with that, he'd taken the laptop and the binoculars, so I didn't even have the pleasure of Minesweeper or looking at chicks changing in their apartments across the street. I was bored out of my skull.

I'd found a fifty on the ground the other day while I was out walking, so I suppose I could use it to buy smokes. Maybe some chocolate for Mello, since he'd taken all of it that night and I wanted him to have something to come "home" to. Because I was obviously not worth coming home to.

I sighed, stepping out and walking down the hall. I reached into my pocket and grabbed a cigarette–the last one left–and lit up, not even caring for the asthmatics next door–they'd been complaining the other day, so I had to move to the balcony again.

Fuck Mello. All fifty bucks of this was going to one thing–_my_ addiction. Not his. He needed to eat sandwiches more often, anyway. He could wait on his chocolate.

I tossed the packet of cigarette behind me, completely forgetting if I had one still left in there or not. No, my last one was in my mouth…or was it? Stopping, I took a quick glance…just to be sure. It was pretty much flattened, so I assumed there wasn't any. I took a quick glance back at the door to my room.

I could only hope they didn't deactivate the room key and lock me out when I got back.

–––––––––––––––

When I got back, I heard a helicopter pass overhead. As I looked above me, from my side, a mob rushed past and stormed the building. My heart just about stopped. I dropped my bags, dashing to the building. Shit! Mello was in there! People were smashing bottles and throwing their fists up in the air; the noise was deafening, but I pushed through.

A man shoved me to the ground and I winced as a clatter of footsteps stumbled over me. I tasted blood in my mouth, but the injuries were minimal: I'd turned to the side, so I wasn't hit as much.

I spit out some blood and jumped up, knocking a few people over. They screamed and lunged, but I took off through the mass of bodies toward the door. As I reached the door, things started to get out of control.

And then it happened–

There was a soft flutter in front of my face, a speck of green fluttering down to the ground. I looked up to see money raining down from above. I laughed. "Great going, Near! Way to distract them!" A roll of money fell on top of my head, and I winced, picking it up off the ground and shoving it into my pocket. Mello and I needed some money, badly.

The doors opened, and a riot squad came out. I stopped, dashing backward, eyes on the squad. That would've been the perfect time to get out. A flash of red and blue caught my eye, and I slugged someone in the face and pushed past the squad. No riot officer carried toys around. Especially not an officer that was five feet tall.

The group he was with went around the building, two blocks over. There was a van there, and I took my chance.

I ran over to them, but stupidly grabbed for Near first. In an instant, I was knocked onto the ground with my arm twisted around my side. "Shit! I'm with Mello, dammit! Near! Tell them!"

Whoever it was on top of me got off. A helmet clattered to the ground and Hal's voice rang out loud and clear, slightly worried, but mostly aggravated. "You idiot! We could have shot you! You're lucky I got to you before the others did!!"

Toys went clattering to the ground and I looked up to see Near pulling his helmet off, staring straight at me. He had an amused smile on his face. "If it isn't Matt. Mello's not with us. Go away."

I opened my mouth in shock and stood up. "Are you kidding me!? I nearly get jumped in the middle of a riot, run three blocks to catch up with you, and you want me to just leave!?"

Near curled a lock of hair around his gloved finger. "You're here because you thought Mello was in the building, right? He hasn't been in the building for three days. He's not with us. Isn't he with _you_?"

I sighed. "No. He's over at that bimbo's apartment, and he's probably slept with her ten times by now…"

Near's face lit up, his smile beaming, his eyes wide. He glanced at Hal. "The bimbo's apartment, you say…" He then turned back to me. "Give Mello my thanks for using me like that. We haven't gotten anything done except harbor a gorilla for the past two days. A lot of good that has done. I wonder if Mello planned it as such…"

He trailed off into a mumble, stepping into the van. Off to the side, I saw two others get in after him; Hal was glaring at me. After a while, Near poked his head back out and turned to another man staring around stupidly, speaking in Japanese. I don't know what he said, but the man got into the van.

Then, that little white face turned back to me, and he waved a little, his face dead-pan. "I wish you both luck. I have a feeling Mello will go back and make ou–er, up with you since this whole riot business has ruined our interrogation." He turned to Hal. "Hal, retrieve my toys and make sure no one followed our friend to the van, please."

And that was the end of that. In the end, I walked back, picking up some of the money that was still falling to the ground. The riot had calmed down, and amazingly my bags were still where I had dropped them. I went through them, finding the chocolate I'd told myself I wouldn't buy to be the only thing left. "Fuck New York. Everyone here's a bunch of addicts, anyway." I glared, walking back into the room.

When I got there, Mello was sitting on the bed, holding his head in aggravation. I frowned, wary, and walked over, tossing the bag onto his lap. He looked up, peeking into the bag. At the sight of the chocolate, he looked up at me guiltily.

I finally spoke. "I don't know what I said that made you so pissed off, but I'm sorry." He didn't say anything, and I walked over to the bathroom, flipping the switch on and off. My voice was quiet, tense.

"I ran into Near and he's in a bad mood because that gorilla was totally useless. Whatever that means. He thinks you planned it to be a waste of time in the first place… He wishes us both luck, too."

All I received was silence, and I stepped out, finally pulling out about ten rolls of bills from my pockets. There must've been at least three thousand dollars, since all of them were hundred dollar bills. I looked over at Mello, and his eyes widened. He stood up, walking over and grabbing it. "Matt, where the fuck did you find all of this?"

I smiled. "Well, Near used it as a distraction, so I figured we might as well–"

"You idiot! That was L's money!"

"Therefore, it's rightfully yours."

"No! L never picked me! It's not mine! Get rid of that shit! It's Near's! I don't want anything to do with his fucking money from L's inheritance!!"

I glared. "So what if it is!? Weren't _you_ the one that said you refused anything of L's!?"

"Because he never picked me! Because Near would've been picked! And if I wanted any of this shit, I would've had to have worked with Near!"

"You don't know that!" I grabbed him by his coat and slammed him against the wall, pointing at the money. "We have no money, Mello! What's not to say L _did_ pick you!? He died before he could tell anyone who he picked! Maybe he picked _both_ of you!? Lord knows you and Near work better as a team than you'd like to think you do! You always have, you know! Anyone with eyes could see you two got a lot done together!"

"It was up to me for once! I didn't want to work with that piece of shit! I don't want that money, no matter how much we need it!!"

I glared, knowing why he was being so bitchy about it. It was always for the same reason– "You _do _deserve it, Mello!"

He blinked, his eyes widening. He was completely shocked. "Wh-What?"

"You deserve it, dammit! You worked harder than Near ever did, and if anyone deserves L's money, it's you! If anyone deserves L's title, it's you, Mel." My face softened, my voice softened, and I sighed. "Damn it, Mel. Stop being like this for once. Just…accept the fact that though Near got higher grades, you're better than him in way more areas… He doesn't have the balls to do what you did by kidnapping that one chick and trading her for the notebook, and he never acts. He's way more cautious than you, but that's not a good thing, Mello. Sure, he's got some good points, but so do you."

He pushed me away, smiling from embarrassment. "Don't… What are you saying, Matt? Don't say things like that…"

I rolled my eyes. "You know he looked up to you, Mello. After you left the House, he told me he envied how quick you were to action and shit. He said you were reckless and didn't think ahead all the times, but you were able to come to decisions faster than him. He said that even if your decisions wound up being wrong, you were also able to bounce back from them twice as easily as he ever could. Mello, Near is fucking jealous of you. You–_we_–deserve that fucking money more than he does, alright?"

Mello was quiet for a long moment, looking confused and sad all at the same time, until finally I laughed. "Besides, how are we going to pay for this hotel room?"

He looked up at me, and all uncertainty in his face melted away as he grinned back up at me. He leaned over and kissed me, finally pulling back and messing up my hair. "Stupid Matt. What makes you think we're _paying_ for this room? I was planning on walking out on the bill from the very beginning."

…

……

………

Needless to say, we "made up", just like Near said we would.

* * *

_**Special Bonus Stories! Huzzah!**_

……………

_**First, the flashback:**_

Mello seemed to have gotten better. He was even eating chocolate again. Matt was glad; Mello didn't have to run around- or limp, due to that slightly injured leg- with no shirt on. He wouldn't have to see as many scars.

Also, it was making him uncomfortable at times.

Sometimes, to him, Mello was hotter than most girls. Of course, he loved girls. _Boobs._ **Lots of boobs!** He'd be happy filled with a room with just boobs! Not even the women attached- just pure, sexy, squishable boobs!  
He loved boobs!

It's just that... Every once in a while Mello seemed better than boobs...

Today was one of those days, unfortunately. He tried to ignore it, but the impulse to mount his blonde friend and ride him until they both got sick from sweat kept persisting. _'I swear to god, I've gone way too long without sex. I. Need. To. Get. Laid.'_

But Mello was being a bit cranky. No money on hand. And that meant no chocolate. And no hookers. Mello hated that- not having chocolate, that is. He kept checking the pantry, barking obscene things that hurt Matt's feelings.

Things like, "Matt, you worthless piece of shit, where the fuck is my chocolate!?", and, "Get off your lazy ass and- Where the fuck does all my chocolate go!? Do you keep eating it, you fucking bastard!?"

"Um... Mel... You're the one eating all the chocolate. And we're tight on money, so we need to spend it on actual _food_."

"You can fucking eat the couch for all I care, I just want my damn chocolate! The next time you leave, you better not even _think_ of coming back without chocolate! Go sell a kidney or something!"

Now how would one go about getting Mello in a better mood? _'Maybe humor would work...'_ And so, he sidled up to Mello, acting as sexy as he possibly could. "Hey Mello, you're too hot to handle..." He touched the burn scars and acted as if they burned his fingers or something, letting out a slight "ow!' as he did.

He laughed weakly, snorting at the end like he used to do all the time as a child, but managed to only do it when he was nervous these days.

Mello laughed, albeit forced. "You're funny, Matt. Really! You're a riot! You think you're **so** funny!" His face hardened. "Shut the fuck up, you retard."

Obviously, Mello was in no mood for puns.

………

_**And now for the regular story that hasn't even appeared on my deviantart page:**_

Matt had been with many women. He had explored every inch of countless women and could only come to one conclusion–he hadn't ever really liked them.

If there was one thing Matt liked, it was video games. It was a rush in his otherwise boring life. The same went for sex; however, he felt nothing for the women he had slept with. He had even dated some of them, but he always found something wrong–no matter how insignificant–and broke up with them, or he simply just left one day and never returned.

He. Didn't. Like. Them.

Because the darker roots started to show after a while in their bleached blonde hair. Because they stayed at the beach all day and made themselves brown in the California sun. Because Sharon decided to try and get him to stop smoking. Because Mandy did whatever he told her to–without question. Because Lauren decided to dye her hair black. And they asked if he would still be there when they woke up–he said no sometimes and they kicked him out. Or just because _they _were still beside him when he woke up.

They complained about how fat they were when they only ate a leaf of lettuce and two carrots for lunch and dinner. They complained about how fat they were when they ate everything in the apartment and still weighed less than he did. They all bitched about trivial things–hair, clothes, shoes. Hell, they bitched about the compliments they received from girls "prettier" than they were and how they "knew" _everyone_ thought they _really_ looked like tacky sluts and wanted to mock them. They gave an excuse for everything and it was always the same one–PMS. They even gave that excuse for eating _chocolate_, for Christ's sake! Like he would have thought less of them if they just happened to like it. (Which he actually liked them _more_ when they ate it all the time because it was sexy.)

Their boobs got in the way, they had fat in all the wrong places. Their hips were too wide. They were too vocal. Their feet were way too small. They acted sweet and innocent one minute and the next they ignored him for a trivial reason. They wore their emotions on their sleeves (or lack, thereof)–and not the good kinds, either. They liked telling him they loved him; they cried when he did even the littlest thing wrong; they screamed at him to open up more. They looked too much like _girls_ and were too _easy_. They wore skirts too often. They didn't wear enough leather.

When it came right down to it, it was mainly because they were too much like women and not enough like Mello.

_(The reason why I decided to not post this was because the whole idea behind it (and I think some of the actual elements in it, but I can't even remember now) was so similar to a one-shot I read here on , and I didn't want to post it when someone had already done something so similar to it. Other than that, the only other thing keeping me from posting it was because it's not long enough to be posted in its own story. However, I fixed it up a bit, so it might not even be similar anymore. I don't really even remember the name of fic anymore, so if any of you recognize it through this story, please let me know and I'll decide whether I should take it off or simply just give credit where credit is due.)_


End file.
